"Well, I went and seen the doctor."
"You're goin' insane."
This post is something of a cheat, as it's really a glorified comment that probably should have been posted under the original entry. However, when PF wondered why I hadn't addressed The Trip to The Vet in my own blog entry on the same day, I couldn't explain the omission. Maybe I was just trying to repress the memory.
I mean, until Calvin's freak-out at the animal hospital -- after the vet and the nurse managed to get their hands on him -- after they tipped the cat carrier forward so it was ALMOST PERPENDICULAR TO THE EXAM TABLE, in an attempt to shake him loose from the plastic -- well, until then, I'd never heard a sound in life that could truly be described as "guttural". It was like a scene out of The Exorcist, except with a twenty-pound feline in the role of Regan MacNeil. (It must be noted that the illustration accompanying PF's entry from yesterday is as good as a photograph of Calvin at the vet.)
Last night, while sleeping on my leg, Calvin had another nightmare. He was whimpering and whimpering, like he was having rectal thermometer flashbacks, and I suddenly grew very frightened that he would snap into a waking dream and start clawing through my flesh as if I were the one trying to probe him.
Ah, bring on parenting! Bring on the sullen, cranky offspring and the endless doubt that "we're the ones who made him like this!"
TRACK LISTING: Ted Nugent, "Cat Scratch Fever"
4 comments:
and yet, we still managed to crack ourselves up by recreating those gutteral noises on the way home.
"hey calvin! rawwr mrrrrrrggggppfftttt rrrrowwwwwrrrlll grwwwrrrmmmhhhh! that's you! that's what you sound like! hahahaha!"
etc.
My cat is the same way! Last time I took her to the kennel, she got loose and the vet and I had to struggle for a half an hour (with a cab meter running) to get her from behind a desk. Weird noises and hair everywhere.
This was after they had given me the wrong cat!!
I had gotten half way home before I realized that I had some other black cat.
Yep, we totally mocked him after the visit, most likely causing some serious psychological damage in the process. ("Seriously, doctor, we have no idea why he's so cranky!") It's like the time Brendan and I taught Sally's old bird, Caleb, to fight with chopsticks, and then wondered why he was slightly violent.
As for Miss Cleo - the fur actually flew? Is that where the expression originates, from crazy cats? Maybe it's just black cats that go nuts at the vet. (Or maybe it's just the fact that they're at the vet and they know it! They know the probe is coming and that the table will be cold!)
Speaking of black cats, I can't believe the vet gave you the wrong cat at first! Didn't they familiarize themselves with the poor kitty, especially after she'd spent some time at the kennel? Don't worry Cleo, we remember you!
Man, the cab bill that day must have been HUGE.
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