"Pet Tails": Sylvester at the vet

One of the highlights each and every year with my cats is when they go for their annual visits to the vet. It's not as much interesting to have them get the annual exams - as I can look at them every day and tell if they're healthy or not - but the fun resides more in how the particular kitty handles going in the carrier, being put in the car, driven through town and then taken into this strange building they see generally once a year that is somewhat noisy at times with loud barks of dogs and faint meows from fellow cats being dragged in by their owners.

In late May, it was Sylvester's turn. Of any of the cats to go to the vet at some point this year, he would be the most interesting I was sure of before that day. To know Sylvester is to know one heck of a crazy cat. One minute being lazy and sleeping around, the next having a bite to eat, then running over to tackle Whiskers or fight with Tabby, then sitting next to them on the couch as though he's buddies with everyone, and certainly going through his sporadic spurts of unbelievable energy running from room to room to room and around again. The things he gets into, the mischief he causes, and the scenarios I swear that he convinces the other cats to get into. If he ain't the problem, then he's gotta be the instigator.

So the morning of the vet visit I get the pet carrier that is his (yes I have 5 carriers - 1 for each cat) and get a small blanket put into it. He really had no clue what was going on until I turned to face him and gave him that subtle look of ... "come here buddy..." If there is one thing the cats hate as much as when I have given them a bath in the past its getting them into the carriers to go to the vet. (Although Porkey will often walk into a carrier just to lay down and sleep if I happen to leave it sitting somewhere with the door open. Hmmmm....)

The whole way from walking out the apartment door, out to the car, and then the whole drive into the vet office....non-stop meowing. "Help me, help me, help me!" I am sure he's screaming. Even in the vet office as we waited for our turn, he was still talking. Which was interesting as we were the only ones in that morning and no other animals were waiting for their turn. And he was talking! If there were any other people waiting with their pets, he'd be more quiet. But when it's only him, yap yap yap yap!

Watching him as the veterinarian checked him out was one of the most hilarious things I have ever seen. The vet guy wanted to do all the things that are normally done, and Sylvester was not wanting to sit still. If he was forced to sit still, he had the look of "oh boy, geez, this is embarassing!" The look he had on his face as he was being examined and given his shots was just hilarious and priceless. Often I had to literally either turn around or cover my mouth to keep from laughing so hard.

After he was given the green light of health and we left, he was nearly as vocal on the way home. He probably thought we were going to visit another vet person or something. He really didn't seem to catch on where we were going or ending up until I opened the apartment door, set the carrier down on the floor and opened the door for him to come out. The magical transformation then took place.

He goes from being the seemingly helpless, vulnerable and victimized cat being taken to the vet for a *routine exam* to walking out of the carrier into the apartment among the other cats to walking with a strut. Walking with pride. Walking with his nose held up and not talking at all. As if to say "Yep, I'm back. I'm strong, I'm healthy. I'm better than the rest of ya cats. I'm awesome.

And I didn't cry at all."