The wood floors on the first floor of my house are being re-finished later this month. Among other things, that means that Tiger and Lucy, the cosseted indoor cats who rule our world, have to be boarded away from the house while the work is completed.
To be ready for kitty hotel, the dynamic duo had to have up-to-date vaccines. That meant a trip to the vet. The vet who is closest to home did not have any appointments this week, so they sent me to another branch, just 6 miles away. When I made the appointment it was with the knowledge that the cats don’t like to ride in a car, but as the saying goes, “needs must.”
On Friday, I set off with two annoyed cats in a carrying case. JT, the in-house cat-wrangler, secured them in the case and loaded them in the car. He gave me strict instructions not to screw things up, to text him with updates, and then he set off for a track meet.
I fired up the wagon and hit the road with two very unhappy cats. Lucy began howling at once, stopping only to catch her breath and begin foaming at the mouth. Tiger, increasingly covered in his sister’s drool, was more resigned to his fate, occasionally issuing a pathetic meow while his sister was loading up the drool works. This let me know that he was alive. And annoyed.
Six miles of travel on an early Friday afternoon in New Jersey involved nearly 30 minutes of stop-and-go-traffic. Accompany that with the howling of very troubled cats and you’ve a recipe for one woman to lose her mind.
My frazzled nerves and I made it there, secured the required vaccines (and proof of said-vaccines) and then my furry friends were stuffed back in the carrying case for the journey home. That was slightly less-eventful, because some of the traffic had thinned out. When we got home and inside the house, I unzipped the carrying case. They burst out and took time to look at me in an accusing fashion before they bolted upstairs, Lucy still frothing at the mouth and Tiger covered in drool. There they have largely remained.
Tiger has likely forgiven me the whole experience. But I expect that Lucy has already made contact with PETA and is drawing up the papers for a magnificent lawsuit against me.
They head to the cat hotel next Saturday meaning that this story isn’t quite over.
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