I absolutely dread having to take my cat to see the vet. My terror has nothing to do with the enormity of the bills! It is Paolo’s behaviour which scares me to death. This ridiculous moggie turns into a vicious sniper when forced to do something against his will. Any form of examination most definitely falls into that category.
Avoiding the Issue
I hadn’t taken Paolo to the vet for several years because the potential for disaster outweighed the benefits of vaccinations and treatments for minor ailments. Mercifully he hadn’t suffered any illness requiring investigation during this time.
My avoidance tactic was the result of a horrific incident a few years ago. I had taken him to the vet for his vaccinations and when the poor man tried to examine him, Paolo viciously attacked him like a whirling dervish, gashing his arm. The cat then flew across the surgery and crouched in the corner, ears flat and hissing like the devil incarnate. A nurse arrived to smother him with a blanket but he then leapt up and tried to gore her eyes!
This episode resulted in Paolo being imprisoned in a grab cage and injected through the bars! I felt so humiliated that I couldn’t face another visit unless it was absolutely necessary. It was inevitable that such an occasion would eventually arise and last week was that occasion!
Heading for Trouble
I put Paolo in his carrier and headed for the surgery whilst praying that I would be seeing a different vet. Many years had passed and perhaps the previous episode had been forgotten. I was relieved to discover that I would indeed be seeing another vet. But when he appeared, his first words were “On dear! It’s Paolo isn’t it?”
Clearly the previous vet had left copious notes on the surgery’s computer. There would be no escaping the shame! The vet announced that he had absolutely no intention of attempting to treat Paolo unless he was sedated first. I was forced to leave the cat at the surgery, a fact which naturally led to an impressive increase in my bill.
I returned some time later to collect my embarrassing pet. He had woken up and looked suitably unamused. I decided that it would be best not to attempt to touch him for a while otherwise I might lose an arm.
I paid the truly enormous bill and turned to leave. I noticed that there was a women sitting in the corner of the waiting room with a rather gorgeous cockapoo puppy on her lap. I walked over and asked if she would be prepared to swap her little bundle of joy for a cute white kitty. She declined my offer and so I was forced to leave with my horrendous cat.
Paolo is 16 now and as feisty as ever. I am hoping that I will not have to endure any more visits to the vet with this nasty, belligerent and wilful creature that I have been looking after since he was 6 weeks old. He doesn’t possess even the merest semblance of gratitude!