Annual vet day for the cats is a hoot – we have to cram one in each of those cat boxes in the picture below.
Getting them in there is something to behold. First you have to get them used to it so we take the roof off and start putting their food into the bottom half of the box weeks before, then after a while put the top half on so they are used to going inside to eat.
This morning, vet day, they are in for a surprise. The food goes in followed initially by half a cat. We sneak up behind them I grab Eddy and the CB grabs Kaos and we try to shove the other half in. All biting, scratching, spitting hell breaks loose. Not helping is Charlie the small white dog (our incredible barking sheep) leaping about like a demented pogo stick. Two shredded arms later Eddy’s in. Kaos goes marginally more quietly.
Before being loaded into the car both of them try to tunnel their way out. Eddy succeeds in forcing the door open but Eddy is not very smart. Instead of getting under the bed or on top of one of our very high cupboards, I find him sitting near the box contemplating what he just escaped from (death row I expect he thinks). So I grab him and shove him back in. Once again it’s like trying to jam razor blade laced toothpaste back into the tube while riding a roller coaster.
They are now safely on their way in the secure custody of the child bride. Kaos will come back shaved for summer, looking like the Lion King in ugg boots, and not speak to us for weeks – nothing holds a grudge like a disgruntled cat. Instead of cat crap on our rug every three or four days, we can expect a daily dose for a while. Eddy, with the memory of a goldfish will be back to normal after his first feed. Meanwhile Charlie, who minutes ago was running the length and breadth of the house at mach 2 for no apparent reason is asleep on the floor next to me. Peace reigns.
