SatanPussy

This past Saturday began great. It was a beautiful, sunny morning. The air was crisp and fresh with an apple cinnamon scented promise of fall. Or that might have been my car freshener. Whatever.

Anyhoo. We went out to breakfast and just as we were walking back in the door, our bellies distended with waffles and pancakes and syrup and grease (mmmm...grease), I remembered- Oi! Daisy has a vet appointment today! For vaccines! Seeing as how the last vet visit for Daisy ended in a black eye and deep scratch for me, it was RED ALERT time for preparedness.

And so, I fished her carrier out of the closet, cleaned it up, found the leather gloves and screwed up my courage. I lured her into the carrier with a treat and off we went. Whee!! Of course, since she does not handle car trips very well, she cried like a human child the entire way, clawing and scratching at the door of the little crate.

Once we got there, she seemed to be relatively calm, as evidenced by the photos below*:


Once the vet came in, I warned her: "My cat is aggressive. Very aggressive. Last time it took 4 of us to give her the shots and I got a black eye." (Maybe it would have made more of an impression had I cheered it: "She's! Aggressive! She's! She's! Aggressive!" Who knows.)

"Oh ho!" She scoffed. "We see aggressive cats in here all the time!"

Then she gave Daisy the first shot.
Hiss. Spit.

{AGGRESSIVE 15 LB. CAT GOING RIGHT FOR PREGNANT VET'S FACE}

"I think we'll have to sedate her." Yeah.

And so they did. They corralled the poor thing into a fish tank and gave her just a bit of gas until she was asleep. Another shot and a physical later, they took the gas away and she woke up. P.I.S.S.E.D. beyond belief.

I lent the veterinary assistant my leather gloves so he could help me get her back in the carrier. Never have I seen the like: this cat was hissing, spitting, and gunning for both our jugulars. Honestly, it was completely frightening. The vet assistant said it was the most excitement he'd seen in 6 months. And that included watching Animal Planet.

I escaped with only a flesh wound (read: two smallish scratches) to my right hand and a monetary wound in the neighborhood of $80.

And the reassurance that it will be at least 2 years before we need to endure an episode like this again.

Damn cat.


*I don't have any photos of the "excitement" as the assistant put it because HELLO I was in mortal danger. Maybe next time I'll hire a camera man. Who knows...maybe we could get our own reality series...Birdie and the CAT FROM HELL