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Kitty Goes To The Vet before/after I opened the door to the kitty carrier and he walked right in. I felt like Joeseph Mengele. As I drove down the road he peered at me quietly through the side of the kitty carrier with trusting green eyes. The carrier sat awkwardly in the seat so I turned it. Eventually he got tired of the cage and started crying and pawing at the door. I felt horrible. "I know boo," I said, "I'm a horrible bastard." His little black leg stuck out from the grate, clawing at the mechanisim. Given enough time I believe he'd figure out how to open it. He cried. "I know." I said, "I know." His leg reached out again, I grasped his paw, as if to hold it to calm him. He tugged my hand close to the plastic grating of the cage, as if to have me open it, which I did not. A car flashed on the brakes in front of me. I had to stop hard, and this flung the kitty about in his cage. "Goddamit!" I shouted "Fucking asshole!" The cat cried. I held his paw repeatedly as I drove down the road, feeling like absolute shit. The feeling of betrayal was enormous. The feeling of violating implicit trust was unavoidable for me. The cat didnt know what was happening. I pulled into the vets office, and he reached for me again. I held his paw, which so easily could have cut me, which didnt. Took the kitty carrier with kitty inside. There were big loud slobbering dogs in the office. They told me to wait, and I sat down, with the kitty in the carrier beside me. After a few minutes, the entire carrier started to vibrate with my cat's quaking fear. Literally vibrate. I pulled his shaking body out of the carrier, and tried to calm him, with little success. A few people commented. I couldn't say exactly what they said. I was focused on my buddy. I gave him kisses and spoke to him softly. "kittykittykittykitty..." A golden retriever walked by, and Boo hissed at him. The first time I ever heard him hiss, I wasnt even sure he did it. It was a small, quiet affair from a creature who's never hurt anything in his life. Not intentionally, anyway. On the top of the reception desk stood a large, proud, immensely fluffy gray cat, staring down the dogs, taunting them with her prescence. Mutely quiet and unmoving, his eyes showed no fear. Boo quivered in my arms. "Kittykittykittykitty." He hissed again at the retriever. My loyalty burbled within me. I had almost driven past the vet. An assistan helped me into another room where I signed papers. Gradually I calmed boo, and he became interested in the fish tank at hand, and then investigated the room. She asked me if I had any questions, and I had none, really. My face must have been really long. "...and you can call after two to see how he's doing...and," Here she choked, it sounded like something beyond procedure. "and if you want, you can come vist him around six. We close at six." I gave my kitty a kiss, held his face to mine, "You be a good kitty," I said. She took him from me, scratching his neck like he likes. As she walked away, Boo looked at me with wide scared eyes, as if to say, "Arg? Arg!? What's going on?" I moped out into the lobby, where an assistant shuffled me out the door. And I feel lousy. He'll be okay, I know. But I just feel bad about it all. I mean, on the one hand, I say, fuck the neutering, fuck the declawing, piss where you like and tear up the carpeting, I DONT CARE. But I know its the right thing to do.
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