Colby and Thimble Go to the Vet

Apricot was miffed at me. Here I'd seen the error of my ways and put both kittens into the carrier and left, and then I brought them back.

I was only thinking of Thimble's discomfort in a larger space, so I should use the carrier to take them to the vet. I forgot that Apricot's only experience (deliberately on my part) with a carrier was going to and from a shelter. He'd gone to the vet in a front pack. Oops.

Oh well, he forgave me by suppertime.

cvz (that was Thimble. He and Colby are on the computer desk, learning not to step on the keyboard or chew the covered wires.They are both rather damp. Ginger's method of aversion training was a squirt bottle of water, and it works very well, when Thimble isn't being persistent, anyway.)

So, to the actual visit.

Colby and Thimble got stuffed into the carrier together and taken to the vet that way. But even in the carrier Thimble protested. Not constantly like he was carsick, just every so often, like "I don't wanna!"

I'm seeing a new vet at my same vet place. Pippin's vet went to a branch of the same practice that's closer to where she lives, and while I can't blame her, I do miss her. The vet I took Apricot to is all very nice, but she's very, um, exuberant and it's exhausting for this already-stressed autistic person to be around her.

So I tried a new doctor. I asked if she'd be okay if I took pictures, and she was. I also made sure the computer screen in the room was on "blank" or standby so I wouldn't accidentally post any critical or private information.

The carrier with the kittens in it

 First we opened the carrier and Thimble came out within five seconds of the door opening. Colby, as usual, hung back to let Thimble do the heavy lifting of figuring out what was what out there. So Dr. Duncan did Thimble's exam first. He is a healthy kitty weighing 4.9 pounds.

Thimble getting examined and
not thinking much of it.

 By then Colby ventured out, just in time to get poked and prodded himself. He is another healthy kitty weighing 4.6 pounds. Not unexpected; he's not that far behind Thimble but he's never caught up to him yet. (Watch him end up the larger cat.)

Dr. Duncan (who is cheerful but not scarily
exuberant like my other vet) and Colby,
getting a heart check.

 Then we had to wait while she went and got an assistant and the shots. See, it used to be a lot easier to give kitties shots. The vets used the loose skin at the base of the neck and it was like getting a shot in your butt. Lots of muscle and fat to absorb the needle-prick.

But then, they discovered that there was an unsettling correspondence between the incidence of cancer and the location of the vaccination sites. This is not something that happens with humans. Cats are scarily vulnerable to getting cancer and no one yet knows why.

So they started a protocol where each shot goes in a different leg. This way if a large number of cancers arise in cats' left legs, they know which vaccine to blame. (They've also removed the adjuvant from most vaccines because that seemed to have an effect on the incidence of cancer. I say "seemed" because you can never prove anything with 100% certainty in science. However, when something has a high correlation, and you can remove it, you might as well. It makes the vaccines more expensive because they have to be stored different, but hey, it's worth it.)

Anyway, the other benefit is, if your kitty does get a vaccine related carcinoma, they can amputate the leg. I know it sounds terrible, but cats honestly don't care. I actually know someone who had to have this done, and he said he had more trouble with it emotionally than his kitty did. She makes her way around the house same as she always did, smacks the dogs when they get fresh, mostly acts just like before. The only difference he's noticed is that she's discovered leaning against a human's leg gives her more stability, so now he and his wife have to be careful which cat is leaning against them because if it's her, they need to give her some warning to take her balance back before they just leave.

Thimble and Colby exploring. They aren't
big enough yet to jump off the counter.

Thimble had been so good during his exam where he got poked and prodded all over that he had the doctor snookered. When she gave him his second shot, he objected mightily and tried to leave. He didn't offer violence or anything like that; just struggled so suddenly that he managed to pull the needle out without all the rabies vaccine going into him. She looked at the remnant in the syringe and sighed. Well, she said, the amount is the same no matter how much they weigh, so he's got plenty in his system.

Colby's shots went off without a hitch, partially because I reached underneath and grabbed a back leg to stabilize him more. You know, the detriment of having a shot in your leg is like if we got a shot in our ankle versus the butt. Much less padding to assist in the pain relief, so it hurts more to give them shots in their legs. It's worth it, though.

Thimble on top of Colby again.
Sort out whose legs are whose ...

It was 11 when we got back and that's normally when they slow down to begin with. After that exhausting experience, they sacked out quicker than normal. I gathered up Thimble (because I could reach him--he was on the lower curve of the cat tree in the picture above) and held him while he slept.

When I had to move, I put him back on the cat tree where I'd gotten him from. I consider this only polite. Having woken him up, he decided that Colby really needed a wash, and climbed up onto him and proceeded to wash him. Whether Colby liked it or not!

Later ... That is how Colby normally sleeps.

I haven't been getting enough sleep, so I lay down on the settee to get a nap. Colby, seemingly a bit miffed that he'd missed out on sleeping on top of me earlier, came over first and curled up across my hips and stomach.

Then in about a half an hour I was woken from my barely-snooze by Thimble joining him and lying across my chest. He had his paws out in the direction of my neck, and when he fell asleep and started dreaming, his soft little paws kept twitching under my chin. 

Needless to say I didn't get any deep sleep. I was, however, quite warm. Which was nice.

At suppertime, after I ate I put the Rowdy Boys in the pink room and shut the door and played with Apricot with the feathers. He seemed to greatly appreciate this, not really in how much he played, but just in having the time with me. Earlier while the boys were still out in the living room but asleep, he'd come into the kitchen and asked for some kitchen cuddle time, which, since I love that, I was perfectly happy to provide him. 

And then I let them out again, and Colby has gone to sleep in the "new toy" box, and Thimble is asleep between the keyboard (which he is slowly learning not to touch) and the mouse. This means when I reach over to move my mouse, it's vaguely furry on the side where his tail is against it. 

Since it's the last night of the year, people are already setting off fireworks. It's four hours to midnight, people! Save your money and do it closer to the actual New Year? Oh well. The kittens don't seem too upset. I need to go check on Apricot, but I think he'll be okay.