Our 20 year old cat Buster had a trip to the vet’s today. It was a visit for a “check-up” and to see if anything was causing his incessant meowing which erupts at all hours of the day or night, and is loud and “throaty” enough to awaken and disturb anyone within ear shot.
Buster has always loved a ride in the car it seems. Generally he’s travels sans-carrier, which means loose about the inside of the car and usually perching himself on Jeff’s shoulders as he drives. His constant cries are normal there, but it is fun to watch him view the world passing by as we venture down the roadways.
Unlike most others, this trip to our vet started out fine. Buster sat on my lap in the passenger seat for the duration of the journey, crying the whole way but getting louder and louder the further away from home we got. Buster has a different cry if he’s about to toss his cookies. This usually happens after he’s eaten some Christmas tinsel, a chunk of a houseplant, a piece of string, or whatever else is around the house tantalizing his warped sense of taste. About two blocks from the vet we recognized the "different" cry, and with the paper towel roll ready, I managed to catch his breakfast as he hurled it onto the sponge pockets in my hand. Well, we almost made it without an incident.
As it turned out, the examination revealed a bad tooth that needs to be extracted. With this dental problem probably being the cause of his vocal outbursts, we left with some antibiotics to clear up any infection before he gets the procedure done this coming week.
Buster chose to make Jeff’s lap his home for most of the ride back, but his cries of despair at the no doubt horrendously frightening examination (he’s a suck you know), were becoming more than annoying. Then, about half way home and later than expected, Buster started the climb to Jeff’s shoulder. Unfortunately, the climb was not as easy for him as I think he thought it was going to be, and as he clung to Jeff’s jacket, he became frightened (I suppose at the predicament he had gotten himself into), and he released his bladder down Jeff’s left side, the car seat and the inside of the door. Jeff pulled over, and I’m looking into the face of a howling cat who has an expression on his face of complete and utter terror. His claws are extended further than they have probably ever been before, and I carefully grab hold of the cat and put him in the back seat to assess the pee situation, telling Jeff it would be best if he just got out of the car so we could mop it up. Apparently, the bladder wasn’t all Buster released. As Jeff leaned forward, several poop clumps fell down (one was already squished between the seat and Jeff’s back), and the cleanup took on a whole different direction.
Just a few minutes of wiping was all it took to be on our way again, and Buster, sulking in the back seat, only cried for a short spell before he became so still and quiet that we thought he had a heart attack and died. Upon arriving back home, a very grumpy cat howled his way down the hall to his bed, turning his head back every now and then with a look of death. He was some pissed at us! Jeff and I got out the Bissell Mean Green Machine and some rags and shampooed the car’s interior and disinfected to door.
I think next time, we’ll resort to a cat carrier for these journeys. None of us need the stress. Oh, and by the way… not a drop of pee or a piece of poop on the cat – of course!
Buster has always loved a ride in the car it seems. Generally he’s travels sans-carrier, which means loose about the inside of the car and usually perching himself on Jeff’s shoulders as he drives. His constant cries are normal there, but it is fun to watch him view the world passing by as we venture down the roadways.
Unlike most others, this trip to our vet started out fine. Buster sat on my lap in the passenger seat for the duration of the journey, crying the whole way but getting louder and louder the further away from home we got. Buster has a different cry if he’s about to toss his cookies. This usually happens after he’s eaten some Christmas tinsel, a chunk of a houseplant, a piece of string, or whatever else is around the house tantalizing his warped sense of taste. About two blocks from the vet we recognized the "different" cry, and with the paper towel roll ready, I managed to catch his breakfast as he hurled it onto the sponge pockets in my hand. Well, we almost made it without an incident.
As it turned out, the examination revealed a bad tooth that needs to be extracted. With this dental problem probably being the cause of his vocal outbursts, we left with some antibiotics to clear up any infection before he gets the procedure done this coming week.
Buster chose to make Jeff’s lap his home for most of the ride back, but his cries of despair at the no doubt horrendously frightening examination (he’s a suck you know), were becoming more than annoying. Then, about half way home and later than expected, Buster started the climb to Jeff’s shoulder. Unfortunately, the climb was not as easy for him as I think he thought it was going to be, and as he clung to Jeff’s jacket, he became frightened (I suppose at the predicament he had gotten himself into), and he released his bladder down Jeff’s left side, the car seat and the inside of the door. Jeff pulled over, and I’m looking into the face of a howling cat who has an expression on his face of complete and utter terror. His claws are extended further than they have probably ever been before, and I carefully grab hold of the cat and put him in the back seat to assess the pee situation, telling Jeff it would be best if he just got out of the car so we could mop it up. Apparently, the bladder wasn’t all Buster released. As Jeff leaned forward, several poop clumps fell down (one was already squished between the seat and Jeff’s back), and the cleanup took on a whole different direction.
Just a few minutes of wiping was all it took to be on our way again, and Buster, sulking in the back seat, only cried for a short spell before he became so still and quiet that we thought he had a heart attack and died. Upon arriving back home, a very grumpy cat howled his way down the hall to his bed, turning his head back every now and then with a look of death. He was some pissed at us! Jeff and I got out the Bissell Mean Green Machine and some rags and shampooed the car’s interior and disinfected to door.
I think next time, we’ll resort to a cat carrier for these journeys. None of us need the stress. Oh, and by the way… not a drop of pee or a piece of poop on the cat – of course!
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