I have two cats, Mike and Hannah, and it was time for their feline leukemia vaccination. The process went something like this:
4:30 a.m. I get up and go to the computer to do a couple of hours work.
6:30 a.m. I “open the hatch” of the pet door to let the cats in from the garage, where they sleep at night. Return to the computer to get more work done and fool the cats into believing it’s a normal day.
7:30 a.m. Acting as naturally as possible, I casually lock the pet door, then enter the storage room above the garage to retrieve the pet carriers. They are located high on a shelf. After much rattling, I get the carriers off the shelf and take them down to the garage. I line them with newspaper and toss an afghan over them to hide them. I pull the SUV out of the garage to give me more elbow room and eliminate one possible hiding place.
Return to the house. Open the pet door. Instruct my husband to not let the cats outside under any circumstances. Mike eyes me warily from underneath the dining table. Hannah does likewise from under the table in the living room. I return to my office. Mike finally comes in and hides under my desk.
8 a.m. I have breakfast while playing on the computer.
8: 15 a.m. I take a shower, dry my hair, and put on the oldest clothes I can find.
9:10 a.m. Hannah has settled down and is beginning her day in a typical fashion: she’s curled up on her bed in garage preparing for the first of many naps. I pet Hannah, then pick her up and put her in one of the carriers. She meows in protest.
9: 12 a.m. I go to find Mike, half expecting him to have vanished, but he’s still under my desk, relatively unconcerned. I pick him up, trying to hold him the way he likes (baby style on my hip). He purrs. As I near the garage, I shift him to avoid being scratched in the near future. He immediately begins to flail his legs. I enter the garage. As I near the pet carrier, I feel something wet and warm on my thigh. Mike has urinated on me. I put him in the carrier. He howls.
9:13 a.m. I change my pants, then clean and deodorize the urine trail on the garage floor.
9: 20: a.m. DH puts the cats in the back of the SUV.
9:21 a.m. I drive off. Wailing and howling commence.
9:42: a.m. One of the cats has defecated in the carrier. My money’s on Hannah. I roll down the window.
9:49: a.m. Growling begins. One of the cats, not me. Although I am considering it.
9: 50 a.m. Arrive at the vet. Hannah was the culprit. I carry the cats in their carriers into vet’s office one at a time. Announce to the receptionist that Hannah has pooped in the carrier; receptionist says she’ll take care of it.
9:55 a.m. Enter exam room with both cats. Receptionist cleans out carrier. “Did you have an accident?” she asks Hannah. “It was no accident,” I reply. “She does that every time.”
10 a.m. Vet enters. Cats are weighed, examined, inoculated. Hannah weighs 10 pounds. Mike weighs 15.6 pounds. “Wow,” the vet says. “No, that’s good,” I answer. She checks her computer. “Oh yeah, he lost almost a pound since his last visit.”
10: 20 a.m. Leave the vet’s office.
10: 50 a.m. Arrive home. Hannah has urinated in her cage. I let the cats out. They disappear. I clean out the cages and return them to storage.
11 a.m. I put my going-to-the-vet clothes in the washing machine.