Poor Claire. Definitely not her idea of fun (or mine!) to be chased around the room with a towel. After a couple of circuits, a lot of hissing, and scaring the shit* out of her (literally), I got her cornered. Every attempt to get her to go into the crate failed. Finally, I put the towel over her (again) and she seemed to give up. Didn’t even struggle as I put her in the crate and fumbled to close the door. She didn’t move, and was silent, the whole drive to the vet. The vet’s office said she was really good — though scared. Duh! She’s actually very like my (calico) Pip. She birthed a calico baby — maybe she has crazy calico genes in her.
Arthur, on the other hand, seemed to have a great day. He really seems to take most things in stride. Even the car ride was very calm. (Except when I was yelling out loud in a funny voice at traffic. Then I got the WTF look.) He was a huge (no pun intended) hit at work, lounging about and soaking up attention. He’d lie in the middle of the floor and make people walk over him. And purr? The most purring I’d ever heard from him. Maybe he was “self-medicating” (some cats will purr to calm themselves), but I don’t think so.
(Photos courtesy of Brendan)
Bella wasn’t thrilled at having to share the limelight — or Brendan.
* Pip, the cat I had before the boys, was quite wild. Every time we had to go to the vet there was chasing and poop. Even when I’d try and “trick” her and get her confined in a room (like the bathroom) she’d figure out what was up and refuse to be confined. Hence the chasing.