So, who says cats aren’t smart? When I went to the basement the other day and hauled up the carrying case, they scattered like the boxelder bugs on a neighborhood maple tree.
I thought I had them trapped on the patio. I also thought I had a second carrier but then realized I tossed it when trying to clean out the basement. Oh well, I thought, I can hold the little one, Rossi.
Getting Martini into the big carrier was another matter.
My wonderful son-in-law — volunteered by his wife — came to help take the cats to the vet for their annual vaccinations.
I had a plan — to have them on the patio where there is no place to hide. And shove one into a case.
Well, that didn’t work. I opened the kitchen door to the patio to place the carrier, and little Rossi quickly zipped into the house. That left bigger Martini, and she absolutely refused to enter the carrier. Scott and I pushed and pushed and finally got her in there. I was getting tired but went on the search for cat number two, who had headed to the basement.
I spotted her with a flashlight. She was hiding as far back as she could go underneath the stairs. Heading into cobwebs, I bumped my head and tore my fingernail but eventually got the nape of her neck. I pulled her out, but she eluded my grasp and tore upstairs.
Again, I had failed to prepare the house. The second bedroom was wide open. With another flashlight, I finally spotted her behind a box under the bed. I spooked her enough that she moved to the head of the bed, and again I grabbed her. But I couldn’t move the bed to get her out. “Scott!” I yelled. He came to my rescue and moved the bed, and I held her firm, and we loaded up into the car.
“I’m exhausted,” I said.
Martini made weird noises as we went the couple miles to the vet’s office. Then Rossi started in.
We were quite the foursome sitting in the waiting room. Scott took the carrier into the exam room, and I held Rossi until she was weighed. Martini was ready to leave the carrier but left a calling card behind that the nice assistant cleaned up for me. She was weighed then seemed contented enough to sit by the small sink in the corner. The doctor of course had no problem with either cat and quickly gave them their shots and exams. Martini again was ready to get back into her carrier. They gave me a cardboard box carrier which I was glad to put Rossi in.
After thanking Scott profusely, I let the cats out on the patio, opened the kitchen door and they tripped over each other heading to the basement.
I didn’t see them again for two hours.
And the next day, neither one wanted to go to the patio.
If my veterinarian decides to make house calls, I’ll sign up to be first on the list.
Judy Krieger is a retired Courier editor.