It is almost time for my dynamic duo to go to the vet for their yearly examination and vaccinations. Since their first trip as babies, I take them together in a single large pet carrier. Needless to say, they are not as slim as they used to be and hefting them around in the one carrier makes me pant in an unseemly fashion.
I promised myself last year to get some lighter, individual carriers to cart them to and fro this year. Amazingly enough, I remembered to do so, and picked up these two Sherpa “medium” carriers.
Sassafrass and Nekoka have no idea that these fur-lined traps will be carting them off to the vet in a week or two.
I hate vet day. I usually schedule it for 4:30 if possible, so I can grab the two of them right after work and take them in. My vet is only five minutes from my house, and my house is only five minutes from work, so you’d think twenty minutes in house time would be sufficient.
Except they know telepathically that the event is coming. Or maybe, possibly, because I get the carrier out from the basement the night before so that I can clean it (we don’t want the vet to see the spider webs and dust that somehow manage to get under the sheet I store the carrier beneath).
When I arrive home from work, instead of greeting me enthusiastically at the front door with some loving purrs, head rubs, and loud “where’s our dinner” mrrowss, I get, instead, two cats pulling a vanishing act.
Nekoka I usually have to drag out from under my bed. While he struggles mightily in my arms, I get him downstairs and shove him head first into the carrier and then force the door shut and fasten it.
Then the really hard part – Sassafrass. I have no FREAKING clue where she is. And the clock is ticking.
I spend a frantic ten minutes looking in all the possible spots a round cat can stuff herself. I know she isn’t in the basement at least, because I’ve blocked off the cat door that gives them access to it the night before for just this situation.
One year I found her under the sink in the hallway bathroom. One year, she was hiding BEHIND THE VACUUM CLEANER in the back bedroom. Which shows you how intelligent they are because as we all know, the vacuum cleaner is a menace to be avoided at all costs.
When I finally find her, I have to get her downstairs and into the carrier, without Nekoka escaping. This is a challenge. Since the first year, getting them both into the carrier at one time generally takes five minutes at least. When it is done I sincerely question why I have this visit scheduled in August because despite my air conditioning, I’m drenched with sweat and cat fur, and have at least one really decent scratch on my arm, which is not protected with a long-sleeve shirt because it is SUMMER.
Then on to heaving the carrier into the air and getting it to the car, then into the car, then off to the vet we go. They are little angels at the vet, by the way. And I have no trouble whatsoever getting them back into the carrier at his office. My little charmers.
So this year I’m offering them the pictured alternate transportation. Their own personal Sherpa carriers. I figure I might still have the mysterious vanishing cat act to get through, but at least I won’t have the two-cats-one-door routine to stress us out.
And I really think they like the carriers. I’m going to leave them out in the living room till the fateful day comes and goes, just to keep them on their toes.
Then I’ll fold them up (which is a really cool feature I didn’t have with my big plastic thingie) and stick them back in the box they shipped in, and shove that sucker down in the basement under a sheet.
And if the cobwebs and dirt accumulates on them by next year, at least I can put the faux sheepskin through the washer.