Tonight it was Izzy’s turn to go to the vet. I had been dreading it for the last 2 weeks, just really not sure how this was going to go. Especially after the fiasco that was Gabby’s trip to the vet when she showed her royal arse.
What to say about my Izzy girl. She’s so darn skiddish that I was convinced it would take me forever just to catch her and get her in the crate. And we’ve made so much progress since her kung-fu karate chop days; she actually lets me pick her up now and doesn’t run away from me with quite as much speed anymore. Surely snatching her, throwing her in a crate, and taking her to a place where they stick you with needles wasn’t going to do much for our relationship. But there was no way around it. So when I got home from work I set the crate out like last time to give them a chance to get used to it. I had about an hour to kill before it was time to go. When it was time to go, Izzy was sleeping on the back of the couch about 2 feet away from the crate. Ok, I thought, maybe I won’t have to close all the doors in the house, chase her down the hall, grab her and carry her at arms length (to avoid karate chops of course) and shove her in the crate. And then I look down and see Gabby, stretched out and snoozing. In the crate. Seriously?? I manage to get Gabby out without scaring Izzy away and then make my move on Izzy. She suspects nothing. I grab her in one swoop and put her in the crate, no problem. Hey, that was easy! Wait a sec… that’s what I thought about Gabby too, and we all know how quickly that trip went to hell. Still, I was hopeful.
The ride in the car couldn’t have been smoother. Bless her heart, she was curled up in the back of the crate, facing away from me, just like I had put her in there. She didn’t make a peep except when I would speak to her. And she didn’t go all Rambo Kitty on the door of the crate either (are you getting this Gabs?). You would have never even known she was in the car. My confidence was starting to build, maybe this would be a good trip after all. Still, thoughts of kung-fu karate chops were still fresh in my mind. She could be trying to weaken my defenses so as to take me down once we get there. I’m on to you, kitty.
Wrong again! Once we’re in the room, I open the door of the crate and prepare myself for the Claws-o-matic 2000 that is about to explode in my direction. I peek inside and Izzy is still cowered in the back corner. I manage to drag her out and she immediately curls into a ball against my chest. I’ll just pretend she really loves me and that’s why she’s letting me hold her like this, and not because she’s terrified. I can’t let myself relax though, because this is the cat that will bolt in the opposite direction or jump sky high at the slightest noise. And there are all kinds of noises at the vet. But she just sat there, looking around, curled in her little ball. I start to relax…. and then I hear WHIIIIRRRRRRRRRRR!!!! Someone has decided that they need to use the shop vac right outside the door to our room. In those first few seconds I brace myself for kung-fu karate chopping escape attempts, but she doesn’t move. Again, I’m surprised. Then comes the real test; the tech comes in to weigh her. No hissing, no squirming, no meowing. We weighed her, I picked her back up, and we sat back down to wait for the vet. I even made the comment to the tech about how much more well behaved Izzy was than her sister. That’s when she said “oh that’s right, I recognized you when I walked in and wondered if this was the Caution Kitty”. The Caution Kitty? I KNEW IT. She has a red flag on her chart. Dang it, Gabby! Shameful.
The rest of the visit couldn’t have gone smoother. The vet came in and fully examined her (see Gabby? They are supposed to examine you, not jam a needle in you and run like hell), then gave her shots with no problem. Izzy never made a sound, the vet wasn’t bleeding when we left, and when we got home she didn’t run away and hide from me (ahem, Gabby). So, that shows how much I know, considering I originally thought Gabby would be an easy vet trip and Izzy would be my problem child. It turned out to be the opposite. And, I figured out that from now on Gabby’s appointments will be at 7pm. There was no one there but me, which means no one sitting in the waiting room to hear the caution kitty showing her royal arse.
(It was all I could do not to ask that Izzy get a flag on her chart for exceptional behavior, since I have to live with the shame of Gabby's caution kitty label. Can't they write "Excellent" on there or something? Work with me people! I want my A+!)
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