Blood And Thunder

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Reposted, to share with Facebook, as we are trying this bullshit again on Saturday – this time with a little breakfast Thorazine for the Big Guy.

Against everybody’s better judgment, we boxed up the cat and took him to the vet for a distemper shot and general inspection today. He was fine in the carrier, he was fine in the car, he was fine in the waiting room. (We has to sit while they reviewed his file, which has “NOT PERMITTED TO BOARD W/US” scrawled on the cover with what I hope was a red Sharpie.)

The fun began in Exam Room Two.

He didn’t start growling right away. The two orderlies, the doctor, Luna, and I discussed the best way to shuck him from his shell in ominous silence. Then they put him, still in the carrier, on the scale, and the room filled with the sound of angry bees. One of the orderlies produced a bright blue Velcro canvas funnel-thing, which turned out to be a combination blinder and muzzle. I dumped him onto the exam table. The bees increased in volume, and incorporated a noise like a helium-powered car with a bad starter. I put my hand on his back, pinning him to the table like a butterfly. (I saw the vet do that once, and it worked reasonably well.) One of the orderlies slipped the hood over his face. She velcroed it behind his ears, and the noises…intensified. This is where Luna had to leave. (”He didn’t sound like my snuggly kitty. He sounded like a velociraptor.”) The vet weighed the cat carrier while two orderlies held the cat down. Then she stuck him with his distemper shot, and everything went to hell.

Do you remember the moment in Lethal Weapon IV, during the fight at Murtaugh’s house, when Riggs briefly gets the drop on Jet Li, and then Jet Li disassembles Riggs’ gun with one finger so fast that you can’t figure out what he did? The cat, Jet Li fast, ripped off the muzzle/mask and his collar, while SIMULTANEOUSLY biting one orderly and slashing the other. I opened the door to the carrier before he could flee the premises or take a hostage, and he got in so fast I didn’t see it. One second he was on the table, and a blink later he was in the carrier, back to the wall, screaming “EVERY! LAST! ONE! OF YOU! SONS OF BITCHES!”

The discussion in the waiting room as we settled the tab and left:

“He ripped off the MUZZLE. I’ve never seen anything do that before.”

“Me neither! My God. Just tore it off?”

“It was on, and then it was on the floor, and he was in the carrier.”

“That can’t be possible. How did he do it?”

“I don’t know — it was so fast.”

“What was so fast?”

“The cat in that carrier ripped off the muzzle when Shirley gave him his shot.”

“He ripped off the MUZZLE? The BLUE ONE? REALLY? I’ve never seen ANYTHING get one of those off.”

Etc.

Cats are very strange. Right now, the amazing kung fu velociraptor is snoozing on my lap while I type. Couldn’t be more peaceful.

I’m not sure which is a more unanswerable question: What do we see in him, or what does he see in us?

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Excerpt of an actual exchange with a very cute employee (name changed) of Dick’s Sporting Goods yesterday, with whom I’d had an interesting and slightly flirty conversation over the past fifteen minutes concerning pronation-correction in athletic shoes:

Me: I think I’ll try these. Do you have them in 12 regular?

Cassie: Let me check.  (leaves/returns)  I’m really sorry. No.

Me: That’s okay.

Cassie: But ours is a pretty small Dick’s.

Me: (smiling) Well, don’t feel bad.

Cassie: Let me check around. There’s a lot of larger Dick’s I can call that probably have more in stock.

Me: (realizing she’s not listening to herself, now trying not to smile) Don’t put yourself out. But I will be near the one in Schaumburg this weekend.

Cassie: Oh, great. That’s a really big…(growing look of horror)…Dick’s…um, I, uh, I’lljustgointhebackandcallaboutyourshoes.

Me: (trying not to grin, failing) Don’t worry about it, Cassie.

Cassie: I’llberightbackjustwaithereandI’llcheckonyourshoesthanksholdon.

* * * * *

I would love to hear how she tells this story.

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