Daniel Boone: Vicious Beast

AV and I had to take Dannie and Skippyjon to the vet on Monday. Last time Dannie had to go to the vet I had to take him all by myself. It was awful.

We had just adopted him and had no real idea about his background. We didn't notice until after we got him home that he is a "munchkin", which is actually a genetic mutation which makes his legs shorter than a normal cat. This also means that he is predisposed to hip and joint problems. Not only did I find this out, I also found out that the vet was afraid that our new buddy might have been exposed to feline leukemia* AND that he was actually an older cat than we were led to believe.

Obviously all of this was very hard for me to take all by myself. This, coupled with the fact that our little sweetheart became a hissing, spitting beast who had to be muzzled for the vet's safety, meant that I absolutely did NOT want to have to go to the vet with him alone again.

AV was running late at work so I got out the cat carriers. Skippy has a cool trick, his only trick really. When you get out his carrier and tap on the top he hops right in. Daniel however, does not have this particular cool trick.

Sitting on Skippy's head.

I got out the second crate. He wouldn't get in. I pushed his butt. He wouldn't get in. I put some cat treats in there. He wouldn't get in. Fine then. Last time I took Kelly and Jess to the vet, neither one of them would get in their crates so they just both just wore their harnesses. Same treatment for Daniel.

When AV got home, we hopped in the car and were treated to THIS for the entire ride.



You can't hear it, but Dannie is actually causing Skipp to cry too. He's in his crate in the back making little sad baby noises.

We got to the vet and Skipp was checked out first. He did the normal "OMG I DON'T WANT TO COME OUT OF MY HOUSE" game, but AV and the vet took the crate apart. Quick, easy.

Now on to Dannie. The entire time I had been holding him. I tried to put him on the exam table when we got there but he started growling so I picked him back up again. I sat down with him in my lap and when it was his turn he growled at me as I managed to lift him up and get him to the table.

His feet touched the table and the gloves came off.

He became a wild, vicious beast. He growled, hissed, kicked and tried to bite. The vet put his towel over his head and called in the vet tech. Together they struggled to hold him to give him his shots. His back end was sticking out of the towel and he was spinning about like a whirling dervish.

"He doesn't still have claws, does he?" the vet tech asked at one point.

"Oh... he has all of them still... So you might want to watch out..." I responded.

Good luck, ladies.

They finally got all of the shots into his furry rear end and he continued to growl and yowl under the blanket. When it was time to leave, I tried to scoop him up again. He was growling again.

Back in the car, he acted like everything was normal and he had never made a scene in his life.

He seemed fairly normal all afternoon and evening, but he spent all of Tuesday like this:

So tired.

Becoming a vicious beast really takes it out of a guy.

The worst part is that we have to go back again in a month because he still needs to get part two of a set of shots. Jess and Kelly have to go then too to get leukemia shots. So that'll be fun....

Cheers,
Red

*He was tested. We're kitty leukemia free.