Our Little Lunatic

We had to take our cats to the vet. We've been getting friendly reminder postcards from the vet for months already and finally we gave in and made the appointment. Yesterday was the day - and it wasn't pretty.

We've been through all this before. Our cats hate the vet. They get nasty and vicious and practically fight for their lives against being handled. It doesn't help that there is always a wait before they can actually get on with it. There are invariably dogs in the waiting room. They hate dogs. Then someone has to 'handle' them. They hate to be handled - by strangers! "Who said you could touch me?" The part about shining a light in their eyes is OK but the business of pulling on ears in order to look inside, closely? Just not acceptable. Standing still on a scale? No. Combing hair out to examine? I don't think so. And don't even get us started on 'temperature-taking.'

So when all is done and we are safely back home, what does our little lunatic Maddie do? She takes it out on poor Frik. He smells odd. Surely he isn't the same cat that is usually around here. This must be a strange cat. We HATE strange cats. ArghhhHHHH!

Our normally sweet little Maddie hisses and spits. She growls. She chases Frik away. She stalks him. She leaps straight up in the air if she happens around a corner and finds him there. She won't share food. She won't share the bed. She won't even be in the same room. Frik is cowed. He doesn't know what to do but he really doesn't want to provoke her. He hides.

Mark decides it is time for Maddie to have a crazy pill. Tranquilizers. This just adds to the overall comedy of the situation. She is still crazy and angry, just in slow motion. She still hisses, but can barely lift her head to do so. If you put her down, she just wilts.

We're a pretty pathetic bunch here. We've been to the vet. How long the effects will last is anyone's guess.