Friday, November 20, 2009

Cha Cha at the Vet

We took Cha Cha to the vet last night for her yearly dose of shots. It was the first time taking her since she's been old enough to make her own decisions as a cat. I think I may have been more nervous about the whole thing than she was. I stressed myself out further wondering if she could sense my fear and whether it was adding to her anxiety. Despite all my worry, we got her in the carrier, to the vet's office, and onto the examination table with no problems.

Some of you may know our other cat, Mao Mao. Mao Mao only sees the vet every three years. These were vet's orders after some particularly traumatic vet visits. As a kitten she jumped on the back of the vet's neck and went into attack mode. Kitty gloves were a necessary part of the subduing process. One vet suggested she was not fit to be a pet. Another office tried to keep her calm during an overnight visit by covering her cage with craft paper labeled, "Caution!" Mao Mao gets so worked up at the vet that we have had to resort to a very unorthodox manner of examination and treatment. We take Mao Mao to her favorite place: the Urso's house in the country. She runs around outside for a few days, eats expensive gourmet cat food, and luxuriates in the care of Josh's mother who brushes her with this fancy olive wood brush with natural boar bristles. Then two nice farm ladies show up with long braided blond hair and a butterfly net. Mao Mao has been sequestered in the bathroom. The ladies use the net and a towel and do the dirty work in a matter of minutes. Sometimes the commotion causes Mao Mao to lose a little bladder control but otherwise, it is relatively painless. After a quick kitty bath, she is out the door once again to see what those chipmunks are up to.

This had previously been my only experience with adult cat vet visits. Mao Mao trained me to expect hysteria. Luckily, our little Cha Cha is different. The vet-tech-in-training had little trouble getting her on the scale. (Almost 11 pounds! I guess she isn't so little.) She silently submitted to his firm hold on the table and got her shots. The vet suggested Cha Cha watch her diet and tugged on her fluffy love handles. It was over. We survived the first of many annual vet visits.

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