Though, I did bring the cats to the vet the other day and they managed not to shit themselves in car. I mean, the one cat did still manage to get sick, but I won't get into details because...I mean, DOES NO ONE WANT MY CATS?!
This vet's office, though. HOLY CRAP. I normally take the felines to the veterinarian on base because it's cheaper. However, those military types apparently apply their NO NARCOTICS rule to not only the service members but the service member's PETS as well. Because, seriously, when I mentioned wanting to sedate my cat for our long drive, that military vet looked at me like I'd just chopped the foot off a live rabbit right in her friggin' office.
(OMG: I'm just remembering that I had a rabbit's foot as a child. Like a hot pink one. HOW UNSANITARY AND EMOTIONALLY DAMAGING, MOTHER.)
Anyway, I got the name of another local vet from a friend, and decided to take the cats over there. They SAY drugs are easier to get in the suburbs, right? The short answer is, of course, FUCK YES. But the long answer involves a hairless cat, a couple of Cockatiels that sounded like fatally injured, crying newborns, and a 500 pound house-pig that urinates by the bucketload RIGHT IN THE WAITING ROOM. ON A MOTHERFUCKING PIDDLE PAD. (As you may have guessed, the piddle pad was ineffective at absorbing the buckets of urine. And I had to switch seats to avoid the stream. The pig also may or may not be blind. And sleeping on a destroyed doggy bed. And snoring. MY GOD.)
When we got into the acutal exam room, I realized that if this were an actual HUMAN doctor's office, there'd be an unconcious, wayward traveler somewhere in the back, sitting in a tub of ice and missing a kidney.The doctor was frazzled, had no assistant, and screeched shrilly when she saw my cat.
Her: AWWW...MISTER WITTLE PIIIINK...ARE YOU A KITTYYYYY!?
Me: Heheh...yeah, he's a cat alright.
At that point, I heard hissing and thumping at my feet, and noticed a hairless thing trying to attack my other cat through her cat carrier. It was traumatizing for both of us. I had to touch the hairless cat. And it was at this exact moment that the infant-mimicking birds started screeching with fury. It was all very horrifying, I assure you, and I briefly considered darting out the door, hoping the cats could fight their way out along. They still have their claws, right?
In the end, both kitties got a clear bill of health, but I wonder if they didn't pick up a disease in the process. I mean, does she even STERILIZE?! Are you supposed to with animals? ::shudder::
Most importantly, we got some sedatives. Here's to hoping they help us all survive the trip.
PS: Last night, I got a text from my husband. It was a message from our realtor that he'd forwarded:
"Just got a phone call...the found THE bear!!!!!!"
I was so happy, I forgave the excessive use of exclamation point.
PS: I'm being featured over at The Mouthy Housewives today! Go read my little gem of thoughtful, considerate, and compassionate advice.