|Yeah, he's a happy kitten.|
Lennon, the garage cat, has found a permanent home. Since the little guy was abandoned & his former owners did not want him, we decided he definitely should be here. Since he was staying with us, he needed a checkup & an elimination of certain parts of his anatomy. Off to the vet he went today. Like any other day, it couldn't have been as simple as drop the cat off before getting down to work for me. Nope.
My day started by running into a guy I dated before I met hubby. He told me that he was glad it hadn't worked out for us because I had gained weight & that didn't work for him.
Then Barbara Walters & George Stephanopoulos stepped in to tell me that besides my hair, I look the same as I did back then. All I could think, "I knew you 2 then?"
I jolted awake & looked at the time. 8:22. I haven't slept that late during the week in a long time & today, of all days, was a very bad day to oversleep.
I had to be to the vet between 8 & 9 this morning & it takes 25 minutes to get there. I didn't know I could do this, but I was out the door at 8:28. I managed to wet & spike my hair, brush my teeth, put on a bra (thank God that I fell asleep in sweat pants & hubby's USMC t-shirt--not an outfit I'd normally wear in public but it worked) & shoes, & grab the cat.
I don't think I have ever managed to go from bed to truck in 6 minutes before. I know I don't want to have to do it again, because halfway there I realized I should have gone to the bathroom before I left. Morning bladder is not fun in a truck with crappy shocks.
I also managed to grab a Coke on the way out the door, so I even got my morning caffeine on the way.
One thing I didn't think about was the fact that a cat that had obviously been on the streets for a while may have some PTSD about the outdoors. We'd already tried to get him into the kennel so I knew not to even bother with that this morning. I didn't have the time to fight with him. He hated that thing so bad the other day.
Nemo hates the kennel & Watson doesn't fit in it so I just let them lay on the passenger seat while I drive. I figured Lennon would do the same. Yeah, best laid plans & all o' that...
The second I opened the door to the garage with him in my arms, he started scratching & clawing to get away from me. I wasn't prepared for him to freak out when he saw the garage again, because I hadn't thought of how scared of the outdoors he could be. I was doing everything I could to not drop him while using my feet to keep Watson & Zipper in the house. Zipper loves going for car rides & Watson just doesn't want to be left out, so they wanted to go along. I think I should audition for Cirque du Soleil with the acrobats I had to perform to keep Lennon in my arms, not drop my phone, keys, or Coke, & keep the dog & other cat in the house.
I got Lennon into the truck & off we went. Whew, that was a work out. Oh, but wait, this is me we're talking about. The adventure couldn't stop there.
Just as I came to the stop sign at the end of my road, with a semi going in either direction on the road I had to turn onto, the cat BOLTED from the passenger seat to my feet & behind the brake. All I can say is thankfully he's skinny. If it had been Fat Boy Watson, we would have careened right into 2 semi's. Skinny Boy Lennon was not budging. I stepped on the brake anyway 'cause I had no choice.
I am now the poster child for why you should not drive with loose pets in the vehicle.
I thought the shock of something pushing down onto him would make him move. Like when they shoot away from you when you accidentally step on their tail in the middle of the night on your way to the sick kid's room. But no. He just laid there & dug his claws into my left foot. Are we having fun yet?
I managed to stop at the stop sign & not get sandwiched between 2 demon trucks. As I let up on the brake & turned left, I managed to move him...by kinda sweeping him aside with the foot he was stuck to...away from the brake...while keeping my other foot on the gas...& held him in place with my foot in an awkward position because he was squirming to get back behind the brake.
I pulled into a parking lot. I managed to twist my back in a horribly painful position & reach down to my feet to grab him. I got his claws out of my foot & pulled him up to my face. I lovingly, soothingly told him, "Lennon, my dear, please do not do that again. You made my heart jump right out of my chest with great fear that we were both going to die at that stop sign back there. I need you to be a very good boy & lay on the other side of the truck in your seat. Please be a very good boy & lay there nicely so that we may both survive this trip. I know that you do not want to do anything to hurt either of us & I know that you care about our survival as much as I do. I would be ever so grateful to you, my dear, sweet boy, if you do as I say."
At least that's what I meant when I said, "Stop being a little shit & stay on your side. I want to live."
The rest of the ride he did not stay on the passenger seat, but he did take me seriously. He crawled down to the floor on his side & stayed curled up in a ball, just staring at me.
|"That tone in your voice told me|
it's best if I stay down here."
When I picked up a dopey Lennon in the evening, he seemed happy to see me. I laid him on the passenger seat, patted him, made him comfy, he looked relieved that I came back for him. Until I walked around the truck & got into my side. I looked over & he was not where I left him. He was already on the floor, in the same spot as he'd ridden in this morning. Glaring at me.
|"I woke up from a nap to find someone had taken|
some parts of me. I need those. Give 'em back."
If looks could kill. The entire ride home I was positive he was going to jump straight up from that position, onto my head, & eat my face while I was driving.
I just told him the vet's name many times & that it was her fault. I had only taken him there for a checkup & shots & she took his family jewels without permission. I am sure he will never forget her name.
But at least he won't kill me in my sleep now.