Wrestling the Demon Cats

So I had to take the Cats to the Vet this morning, and as I lay here in recovery I would like to tell the Vet...THIS IS WHY I CAN'T GET HERE MORE OFTEN....DON'T JUDGE ME!

It sounds like a simple task, getting your cute little kitties to the vet...but let me tell you this is a total process.  I have two cats.  That are, on any given day of the week or year, very loving and sweet cats.  They don't scratch, pee where they aren't supposed to, they even spoon with me when I am sick.  HOWEVER, when they know that somethings up...it is a whole different ball game.

I had to start three days before, when I stealthily took out the cat carriers and put them in the living room....just let them sit there for a few days.  If I wait until the day of, they know, and run away.

Then I didn't put any food in their bowls last night....now don't get all PETA on me, they weigh about 17 pounds, so neither of them is going to starve one night without food.

About an hour before I had to leave, I put food in their bowls knowing they would come running.  Then I ran around the house shutting all the doors to all the rooms and blocking the cat door that leads to the basement.

This is where the fun begins, because they just saw me do that...and now...They know...They managed to get under Henry's bed because he was trying to "help" by trapping them.  So after going under the bed with a broom stick and chasing them out I had to slam the door to make sure there was no escape.

Sugar Ray, the more amicable of the two,  (only because he is too lazy to really fight too hard,) I managed to get in his cage on try number two, having expended all the energy he felt he wanted to on the first wrestle.

But Target?  Well I think perhaps that he is having issues with his name .... He is a whole other story...I have never seen a small cat weigh as much or be as strong as this animal...being the more skittish of the two it was a real treat to get him in.

This is where I would have benefited from watching the WWF in the 80's.

After chasing him down and cornering him, I try to get my hands on him.  His fur is like bunny fur, it is so slick that it makes it hard to hold onto him..and he has the special cat power of Fur Release.  So as soon as two hands got on him he pressed his magical button and furs me, head to toe.

I find myself out of breath lying on the living room floor in a cloud of fur and Target is on the stairs. (how he got there, I have no idea because I am holding what looks like a cat worth of fur in my hands) He is calmly looking down at me...clearly saying "Oh were you trying to get me?????"

Eventually I got a hold of him with a lot of sweet talking and slow moving.  I shoved his head in the box and immediately his butt swelled up to about 3 times its normal size.  (It reminds me of me on vacation.)

I tried to push his butt in the carrier. Somehow pushing on his butt is like a lever that makes his back legs splay out.  At which point all the talons came out full fledged and latched on to anything in the vicinity, arms, shirts, couches, rug.....and by the time I got them out of one thing, they were Velcroed onto another.

Occasionally I got one back leg in, and the front leg from the other side came out.  This wrestling match went on easily 5-10 minutes, and again, with a pile of fur in the carrier I shut the door only to find him sitting calmly on the stairs looking down at me curiously.  DAMN....

After another match with the Target, I sit with sweat dripping down my face making the fur stick to my body, and bloody scratches on my legs and arms, but he is in the carrier....

By the time that I got them into the carriers and into the car, they were mad, I was mad and we were late.  They continued to meow the entire way to the vet....which I am quite certain was less meowing and more cussing me out.

I walked into the vet looking like some crazed maniac that has just come out of her Yurt in the woods with a wild bobcats that I want to make my pets.  The vet just looks at me skeptically and starts sweet talking the talon exposing demons that I have in the carriers, and eyeballing me like I might be some sort of derelict...Little does he know that I was just in a standoff in my living room with the guards of gates of hell.  Of course at the end of the appointment when its time to go home, he just slips the cats in their boxes easy as can be and they mew politely.

Grudge holding has occurred, and after letting Target out of his box when we got home, he looked at me with distain and vowed that next time he would go for the eyeballs.  I haven't seen him since, and am pretty sure he is in his lair drawing up his plans for next time.