Terrible Trauma

Today was the day for the cats to go to the vet. We loaded them into the truck - in their new carriers that had seemed so interesting to them when they were inside the house - and off we went, with Frik howling from the first step out to the garage. Maddie, who in the best of circumstances has the tiniest of voices, found hers could rise to the occasion too, after listening to Frik yowl for about 10 minutes. Poor things.

The vet was running late and they had to be weighed and prodded by a tech first - tension rising. When we finally got around to poking in ears and examining teeth it was all too much. Frik was first - and hissed and growled and had to be restrained with a towel. Maddie took her cue from him once again and followed suit. Shots were dispensed, certificates signed - they obviously wanted us out of there quick! They didn't really even have a chance to be amused at all of Maddie's extra toes. We were all embarrassed.

The trip home was spent in brooding silence. (Cats and us.)

Doesn't bode well.

But! The new carriers fit in the truck much better than the old ones, and we think they can be 'seat-belted' in; a benefit Frik will enjoy, since his rolled off the seat on the way home and he was left dangling for a bit while we pulled off the road and got him righted again. And surely they will be relieved after a few hours of driving the next time when they realize they at least aren't going back to the vet?? We can hope.

We spent the rest of the afternoon soaking up the heat in front of the fireplace and pondering the days to come. We'd had all the trauma we could stand for one day, evidently. I wish there was some way to explain. Surely they are left with a big question mark in their minds - "What on earth was THAT all about?"