|Bear Tail or Bear Tale|
Normally, my feline pal is ready to bolt out the door long before 8:45, but not this morning. He was nowhere to be found, even when I called to him and shook a bag of treats. It's amazing how cats know when it's time to go to the veterinarian. I swear I never tell him.
When I went into the basement to retrieve his cat carrier, Bear briefly reappeard at the top of the stairs, with a, my-suspicion-was-confirmed, look on his face. It took another five minutes to find the guy. He was trying to hide under the sheets. As intuitive as he is, he's not always that great at hiding. His tail usually gives him away.
Trying to extricate a 15 pound cat from a bedsheet is worse than trying to lead two 1300 pound thoroughbred mares back to the barn, through a thunder and lightening storm. The bedsheet got tangled up and knotted between Bear and me, with black cat fur flying in at least 100 directions. When I finally got a secure hold of him sans the sheet, I attempted to put him in his cat carrier. I'm not kidding when I tell you he became the 15 pound cat from hell, attaching himself to the top of the carrier with his scimitar-like claws. The cat carrier was supposed to be housing him, instead Bear was carrying the carrier. More fur.
Needless to say, we were late to the vet's office. I came in covered with black cat hair. A cute, white Scottie terrier, also there for spring shots, cowered in the corner because he was terrified of this large growling cat carrying its own cat carrier.
One really good thing, Bear is always good for the vet. Dr. Bratton gave him a clean bill of health with a "See ya next year, Bear."
Bear liked driving back home in the truck, IN his cat carrier, with the seat belt around the carrier. Currently he's napping, the rabies shot knocked him for a loop. I may be taking a 20-minute happy nap later this afternoon, myself.