And now to indulge in the internet's favorite past time, Cats. Recently, Good Cat went in to see the vet for some regularly scheduled feline maintenance.
She was quite vocal in her objections to going in the box, leaving the house, going in the car, leaving the car, and sitting in the vet's waiting room. The fuzzy brown puppy in the waiting room thought she was fascinating. But he was a very well behaved fuzzy brown puppy and just stare from across the room. Good Cat does not hiss. She cries. Short, plaintive bursts of noise that struck just the right acoustic balance to fill the entire waiting room and draw the attention of all three of the reception workers ... who were all more interested in how well the fuzzy brown puppy was handling everything. Sometimes cats can't get no love.
More vocal protests accompanied our move into the exam room. When I opened the door of the carrying box, she turned around, presenting her butt to the door. Clearly stating that while she by no stretch of the imagination did she want to be in the box to begin with, she would not be departing at the current locale. I'll get off at the next stop, thank you very much. So when the vet-tech up-ended the box, the result was a graceless but surprisingly funny rear-end first exit. More meowing. And some army crawling to the safest looking positions.
Vet examination proved that Good Cat is a Good Cat with no noticeable health problems, unlike Bad Cat who has had a bad tooth, urinary crystals and infections, eosinophilic granuloma complex, is so allergic to hard water that she'll lick the fur off her stomach if she gets too much, and last summer, got pneumonia. Oh and when she was a kitten she got a ball of infection pressing between bone and skin (there's a name for when an infection makes itself into a ball so that antibiotics don't work on it but I've forgotten it) which caused her paw to explode. Bad cat is expensive. But friendly. Everyone at the vet's office loves her.
Good Cat only ever sees vet for vaccinations.
I did however need to run by the vet my one concern about Good Cat's habits: she eats spinach. Loves it. She hears the baby spinach bag crinkle and she's there waiting next to me to see if I'll throw her a leaf which she then sniffs then hauls off to a new local to play with and eventually consume.
Of course, in fear of being considered an awful Pet Parent, I must downplay my enabling of Good Cat's spinach addiction. So I tell vet that Good Cat will steal spinach and snag dropped leaves off the floor ... which yes, she totally does, the fact that I regularly throw her a leaf is not mentioned. Vet nods. Asks if Good Cat might have a little bit of vomiting post-spinach-snag. Nope, no vom.
Vet nods again. Tells me, "If she wants to enjoy the occasional leaf then I don't see any harm in it."
Best. Vet. Line. Ever. The occasional leaf, said the same way a doctor would explain the benefits the occasional glass of red wine.
So I head home in pretty good spirits. But hey, I'm not the one that just got stuck in a little box, uncerimoniously dumped from said little box, then given a rabies vaccination in my hip. I let the cat out, take out the trash, run to the post office, come home and find Good Cat is happy but sleepy. More than willing to let me pet her. Bad Cat is under the bed.
Bad Cat is usually an attention whore. Needy. In your face. Friends with everyone. Pet me. Love me. Feed me if you must but I'd really rather you dangle a string for me to pounce on. Nope. None of that. Not today. Today she is under the bed. Try to pet her -- gone. Dangle string -- she eyes you suspiciously. Bad Cat knows where Good Cat has been and Bad Cat is waiting, waiting for her turn to be shoved in the box and carted off.
For the rest of the day she waits, waits for the other shoe to drop. Meanwhile, Good Cat gets her "occasional leaf."