Pragmatist
Pragmatist

I'm a bit behind on reportage, so if I wander between present tense and past tense, that's the reason.

Lured Missy into the cat carrier with her favorite toy, a long narrow ribbon.  Played with her earlier that way, so she was totally unprepared when I slammed the door shut and locked it.  (Sneaky, eh?)  Only minor protest, though.

However, when I picked up the carrier and carried it to the car and belted it in, she caught on that this was no longer play.  By the time I got back to the car with my purse and keys, she was in full throat, and didn't give up.  She tried every whichway to get out of the carrier, even to trying to squeeze out through the air holes.  Valiant effort, but no go.  And telling me about it in no uncertain terms.

When we got to the Vet's office, she was still hollering, but quieted as soon as we were in the waiting room.  Hardly a peep out of her.  I let her out of her prison when we got to the examining room, but she was unsure if "out" was what she wanted.  Even with all the compliments about her beauty, she was not to be placated!  

A new technician and a new vet today.  That also didn't sit well.  Her regular doctor is taking maternity leave.

In her hysteria, she tried to climb me, and left a rather serious claw mark on my back.  I asked the technician if she'd clip Missy's claws.  Honestly, the way the tech held Missy amazed me.  She would have been struggling, howling and clawing at me if I tried it.  But it was very effective.  Not a wiggle, and all 100 (it seems like) nails got blunted.

Missy is small, and probably will never be large, and I don't see her growth...but! she has gained almost a pound this last month.  She's getting long and lean, and long-legged.  When it came time to administer the rabies and FVRCP (feline leukemia), I was told to go get some coffee and come back in 45 minutes.  Seems Missy had a fever.  The vet thought it might be due to stress, but for whatever reason, she didn't want to give medication with the fever, just in case it was/could be infection.  So I went to the Starbucks across the way, and got a cinnamon twist.  Poor choice.  Not enough cinnamon to be worth the name.  I'd already had my alloted caffeine for the day, and the twist was unsatisfying, but I waited the 45 minutes.  Sure enough, the fever had gone down, and Missy got her inoculations.

She grumbled the whole time going home.  Wouldn't speak directly to me, but I got the idea, anyway.  She very eagerly left the carrier when we got home.  And disappeared.

Later that day, when the girls were with me, Nicole came and told me Missy was going "mew-mew-mew," and she thought she was sick.  When we got back to the living room Missy was nowhere to be seen.  Later that evening, I picked her up and cradled her as I usually do.  She didn't try to get away but she mewed most plaintively.  I put her down on her bed, and stroked her along her back and flank.  She winced.  Didn't strike out at me, but I definitely knew she didn't want to be petted.  So.  A little cogitating led me to believe that her FCVRP shot went into her flank.  Sure enough, next morning she was fine and feisty as ever.

So, she's good to go until January when she gets spayed.  She's really going to be mad at me then.

Shalom