Now here's the thing. I'm one human, a girl, without the effortless upper body strength of most guys. They are three cats. Collectively, they weigh a little over 45 pounds. So how does one human get three cats to the vet? Especially when the biggest one, Thimble, has decided to try on the "scaredy cat" personality for a while. (At least I do hope it's only temporary!)
Last time we all three went to the kitty doctor, I had the two Coons in Thimble's big crate and Apricot in the kangaroo pouch. When I came back, I had Thimble and Apricot in the crate and Colby in the pouch, because that was what they had physically indicated they wanted.
So this time, I decided to put all three of them in the crate. I got a friend to make me (I paid him) a CATillac -- a furniture mover's dolly with a handle and eye bolts, I think they're called, on the sides to tie down the crate to. This would assist me in getting the crate from the car to the kitty doctor's place and back again. I figured I'd get someone to help me lift the crate into the car at the vet's, and I could lower it onto the CATillac.
However, this left the question of how to get the crate plus cats out to the car from my house. Hm. I came up with and implemented this plan.
Everybody got their harnesses put on before I left for my walk that morning. (And hey, this time it was properly cold outside!) The door to the sofa room got shut as well, to keep them from hiding there. I figured Apricot at least would know what's up. (He did.)
The putting on of the harness went well; Apricot didn't even need bothered by Colby in order to walk around this time, which is odd because his harness was just a tad too tight. Not enough that I wasn't going to use it, but enough that I think I need a new one. (Sigh. More expenses.)
When I got back from the walk, I put Thimble into the crate and carried it out to the car, whose door I had previously opened. The crate fits across the back seat with room for me to sit next to it. How convenient.
Then I put the kangaroo pouch on and put Apricot in it, and hooked the pouch's hook to his harness (this was the only reason I wore the pouch; to ensure that panic would not enable a cat to get away from me).
I took him out to the car, opened the door, sat down inside, closed the car door, unhooked Apricot and opened the crate door and fed Apricot through the opening into the crate. Although he didn't even try the splay-legged "NO" protest some cats do, I will admit the advantage to such a large crate is that he wouldn't have had a chance.
See, this way there was no possibility of losing a cat to the outside world. Not that Thimble even made a move from where he was plastered against the back of the crate. Sigh. I wish he were brave like he used to be; it would be so much easier on him.
Then I got out of the car.
Wait, then I opened the car door to get out of the car.
Nope, the handle moved but the car door wouldn't open. Oh for crying out loud! Apparently, the car accident where the guy hit my driver's side door and affected the back door did more damage than anybody thought. While I got the actuator repaired so the key fob would unlock the door from the outside, the inside handle won't open the door. And of course, when do I ever sit in the back seat? And I never have more than one person besides myself in my car these days.
So I scrambled into the front seat and got out the front door, which probably alarmed my poor cats even more.
I repeated the whole process with Colby, who was far more difficult to get in the pouch, seeing as he'd observed me leaving with both Thimble and Apricot and figured, rightly enough, that he was next. I think perhaps I'll just fasten a leash around my middle to be the connection next time.
I had to get out of the car again and go back inside for my purse and the protein bar I was going to have for breakfast, and put the CATillac in the wheel wells of the back seat (it wouldn't have fit while I was in there), but then we were off!
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| The crate: all strapped in. Technically this is on the way back, as the crate's on the other side on the way there. |
And on time, too. In fact, we were early to our 8:30 appointment! (That never happens to me!)
Nobody said anything on the way there. Not them or me, as I was busy stuffing my face while I drove. It was nice that December the 30th happened to be a holiday this year for a lot of people so traffic was light. I'm glad the vet's office was open.
At the office, I unfolded the CATillac and put it down by the car door where the crate was the closest. Then I pulled the crate out of the car and, using as much arm and leg muscles as I could to spare my back, put it down on the CATillac.
Oops. It was backwards. I didn't think the cats would appreciate the view from where we'd been; they'd be better off facing the end I was pulling, so they could see me and (hopefully) draw reassurance from my presence.
Okay. Concentrate, deep breathing, fingers on one end, fingers through gate of crate on the other end, lift just enough to be able to rotate and set back down.
I did it! I was very proud of myself. And there was a nagging thought, minor, pushed to the back of my mind where I didn't actually think of it till later. "Huh. That was easy."
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| Colby and Apricot visible as we go up the handicapped paintlines in the parking lot. |
They sent me right into a room, even though I was early, and I opened the crate door to let anyone who wanted to come out and explore.
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| Thimble and Apricot aren't going anywhere. |
Colby was the only taker. He was like, hey, I know this place! He went under the chairs and stood on his hind legs to look on the counter where before he'd jumped up and knocked over a jar of liquid, but he was just confirming it was the same as before. This time he left it alone. He found the corner beside the window seat against the wall and behind the crate, and decided that was a good place to stay.
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| Colby the intrepid explorer |
The vet tech came in and talked to me about my concerns that day, and confirmed what the vet was going to do (physical exams on everybody, shots for the Coons but not Apricot).
Then Dr. Powell came in. She's very nice. Colby liked her last time.
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| Colby's Corner |
They have a baby scale like I have to weigh the cats in. I decided since Colby was out, I was going to do Apricot first, as he was the easiest to get to in the crate. Colby might go into the crate after his exam, making it even harder to get to the other ones!
So Apricot got weighed, and it really helped that I have that scale at home (not identical, but close enough), as I'd accidentally trained them to hold still in it without being held by me. (I didn't do it on purpose, just would say "hold still" when I put them in it and then "thank you" when I put them back down.)
Dr. Powell looked in his eyes and his ears and at his teeth and his skin, and then listened to his heart rate (172, normal for a cat-at-the-vet), took his respiration rate, and then they took his temperature. That was quite enough for Apricot, who was an angel (or paralyzed in fear) the whole time. He didn't react, just wasn't happy about it.
I put him down on the floor, not the crate, and while he was busy getting his bearings, I fished Thimble out of the crate. And fished, and fished, because he's a very long cat and wasn't coming willingly.
I got a couple of amazed exclamations from both vet and tech when I kept getting more Thimble out of the crate. Finally I had his back end bundled into my arms with his front so I could lift him up.
He went through the same things Apricot had. Only his heart rate was 200. Poor fellow. He was visibly the most scared of the three, even shaking a tiny bit. And he only had to get one shot because his rabies from last year is good for three years, and of the other two shots they get, one is good for two years.
Apricot by now was back in the crate, and I let Thimble go in as well (I kind of just poured him in, as I figured that would be his ideal spot right now).
Then I moved the crate and gathered up Colby from where he'd gone. He earned a new nickname on the scale: Wiggleworm! His heart rate was identical to Apricot's. Unfortunately his heart murmur is back, dang it. I guess I will have to get him ultrasounded in another two years after all. I don't want to; they'll probably have to sedate him. He's calm but he's not the calm do-anything-with cat that Pippin was (Pippin never had to get sedated for an ultrasound, even the very first one).
The arrangement of the cats in the crate was theoretically Apricot at the back and Thimble in the middle now, but when I went to put Colby in, I saw that the two had switched places. More like Thimble had forced his way into the back. But he had his tail curled around Apricot, who was curled up against him. It looked so sweet!
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| Can we go home yet? |
Then we did the pay thing and got the flea control stuff for me to put on later (I haven't yet), and I asked a gentleman who'd come in with a kitten in a tiny crate (comparatively!) to help me out. Well, actually I was about to ask the desk lady if someone could help me and he volunteered.
So he lifted the crate into the car for me once we got out to it, and I thanked him, folded up the CATillac and put it into the car, and off we went back home.
Oh goodness, I don't want to go through all that again, cat by cat into the house. By the time I got home, the physical sensation and the accompanying thought had gotten stronger. Lifting the crate had been easy. I wonder ... I went inside and turned off the alarm and left the house door wide open when I came back to the car.
"Guys," I said, "I want to try something." I pulled the crate out enough to get a hold of both ends and lifted. Completely. I was upright, holding 45 pounds of CAT and the weight of the crate, and although it was heavy, I was okay. I could even walk.
My friends, I carried that entire crate in with me and set it down on the floor. The only part that was difficult to the point of "ow" was the "on the floor" part. Next time I'll put it on the table; they can get down from there no problem--they do it all the time.
Can you imagine? I have never, in my entire life, been able to lift that much weight with my arms, much less walk with it. Hooray for protein and strength training!
Apricot took four hours to forgive me; after two he re-emerged from his hiding spot but wouldn't let me near him. After two more he went back to being normal with me. This was a great relief and I'm glad it only took him four hours.
Thimble held a grudge for about two hours and then gave it up and climbed into my lap where I sat watching a tvshow and wanted cuddled, so of course I did.
Colby was perfectly fine from the moment he left the crate.
And so we survive another vet visit, and I learn an astonishing thing about myself. (Whoo hoo!)
