It is now officially official — Louise has earned the right to a senior citizen discount on all her kitty treats from hereon in. And she does eat a lot of them as you can see from her pendulous belly swaying in the breeze! She, Sam, and I suffered through (and barely survived) her annual checkup.
Since she wouldn’t come out of her kitty carrier and couldn’t even be shaken out of it while upside down, the vet had to resort to desperate measures. She took the entire thing apart, screw by screw. Good thing we weren’t paying by the hour. However, it is a dang shame you can’t buy Xanax for humans over the counter at the vet. There’s a large untapped market out there for drug companies.
Thankfully she passed with flying colors. That is, of course, assuming you don’t hold it against her that she hissed, spit, screamed and growled all the way through the exam. Well, she is a teenager after all, 14 years old. The vet commented on what great shape she is for her advancing years. Unfortunately many cats don’t live that long. So I summoned my energy to ask that dreaded question, “What does 14 years mean in ‘kitty years?’ Is she 100?”
“Oh, she’s in her nineties for sure,” she responded. However, she was quick to add, “but she sure has all of her spunk!” Of course, that was based upon the cacophony of noises emanating from her fang-filled mouth. And might I add, the vet had on her “turbo gloves” that were as padded as a potholder all the way up to her elbows. Oy vey.
My friend Denise had the best analogy, “She sounds like a little old lady who has had her handbag snatched away from her.” It is fair to say there was no love lost in that room, only some visceral hatred and a strong need for earplugs like at NASCAR. At the end she RACED back into her re-assembled kitty carrier like her tail was on fire. Go, Gramma Louise! They’ll never take your dignity away despite all of the poking and prodding.
When we got back home, she TORE out of her jail cell. Once free, she did what she does every year. She looked over her shoulder at me in disgust. With no further ado, she let out one last vicious hiss like a scene out of “The Kitty Exorcist.” I stood in awe, hoping that I’ll have half her spunk if I make it to my nineties. Watch out, Betty White!
LibbY