I loathe traveling anywhere with my cats. I really really do.
Why? Short answer (some of you have heard the full tales):
Bacon pooping in his carrier and prompting an immediate pull-over-at-nearest-gas-station-and-try-not-to-breathe-until-you-get-there response
Eggs screaming (yes) so much that I let her out of her carrier and she then proceeds to crawl from the backseat, over the drivers seat and my shoulder, down my front, trying her best to wedge herself between the gas and brake pedals.
Bacon ripping a cardboard carrier (stupid idea) airhole enough to push his head through, and then toppling face first from the seat to the car floor.
So, I was not looking forward to traveling the 15 minutes to the vet with both of them in my car. The reason for the vet? Nothing serious- just been awhile since they had shots and they are both fat and I need help getting them to lose some weight.
Claire attempted to help me get them in their carriers on Wednesday, but it was an epic fail when Bacon rocketed out of his carrier before she could slam the door shut and hid under my bed. The vet graciously rescheduled me for Friday.
Yesterday, I pulled out the big guns and had my friend, Moose, come help me. She's great with cats.
The cats ended up in the carrier, but not before Moose almost got her hand amputated by Bacon's flailing front legs and the mattress and boxspring on my bed were removed to actually get Bacon out from under the bed. When I closed the door on the last carrier, Moose looked at me and said "Wow. I have NEVER seen cats struggle so much. That was pretty bad". Finally, the reason for my loathing-traveling-with-my-animals has been recognized by somone other than me.
I drive the 15 stressful, ear-drum splitting minutes (my cats scream, they really do) to the vet. At which, my cats proceed to demonstrate that they are not really domestic house cats but sabertooth tigers that were undiscovered, spitting, growling, cowering in the most inaccesible corner in the office, etc. The only way to get the blood, give the vaccines, shave Eggs, etc was to sedate them. Both of them. Seriously, who has cats that need sedated for a CHECKUP!? ::raises hand:: So I leave them for a few hours in the very capable hands of the vet...who has been laughing through the Eggs and Bacon Show, whilst I am practically in tears and horribly embarrassed by their uncharacteristic behavior.
3 hours later and my holiday money now spent at the vets, I bring home two yowling and seriously ticked off cats who, even though it's almost 24 hours later, are still hissing at me whenever I walk past them, but it's okay if they bite me, because they've been vaccinated.
I just can't wait to see how they handle this diet food. I'm afraid I'll wake up one morning missing a big toe because Sabertooth Bacon (or Eggs) has nibbled it off...
