Sadie is getting over a weird, chest cold cough thing, so of course, now I have it. This morning I woke up from a Nyquil stupor and got ready for work. Considering that we have 10 cats, I made an appointment to get the kitten from the first litter fixed to try and put a stop to the madness. Tennessee is known for having different kinds of animals breeding just about all the time, so they came up with the Spay Shuttle to keep us from being overrun by dogs and cats. It’s like the book-mobile, but for overly fertile animals, not library books. I found one near downtown on my way to work, and put the cat in a cloth carrier that I found in the barn.
The carrier had a hole in it, of course. Nana gave me two safety pins, and off we went. By 8:15, I was pulling into the parking lot. Right about then, the cat had clawed another hole into the cloth carrier, and left the vets a present. A smelly, “I’m really scared because I’ve never been in a car before” kind of present. I thought of the 5 kittens that were raining havoc upon my bathroom, and grabbed the carrier to go stand in line.
The Spay Shuttle looked like a modified RV, with an awning stretching over a folding table. People were filling out their information on clipboards, and handing their pets over to the waiting Vets. I was about the 4th person in line, behind a wiener dog, and orange cat, and animals in a covered carrier.
Soon, flies began to circle. The kitten was yowling and biting at the new hole she had made. I set the carrier down to pick up a clipboard, and she began rolling across the parking lot. I stood on the corner of the carrier where the new hole was, so she went back to work on the tear where the safety pins were. When it was my turn, I apologized for the mess, the smell, and the flies. I signed off and away she went. I got back on the highway and left the flies behind.
I had to be back to pick up the kitty by 4, and returned to see everyone else gathered around the Spay Shuttle. We watched a brief video on “post-surgery care” and the vet tech returned to pass out our pets. I was not surprised to get kitty back in a cardboard carrier that was much nicer than the one I had brought her in. It was probably in the trash where it belonged. They told me she would be lethargic and not have an appetite until the next day. I was also instructed not to let her lick her stitches, or let her outside for 48 hours.
As soon as I started the car, kitty was yowling like a hurricane, clawing at the cardboard and shaking the box back and forth. I turned up Bad Company to drown her out, and we made it home accident-free. When we got home, I brought her inside and carefully put her in my room. She hopped out of the box and began pacing the room. I gave her a bowl of water, which she ignored, and went from angry yowls to cute, hungry mews. So much for no appetite. She belongs in this family all right.