Vet visit -- Trauma time

Today was the annual vet visit for Patches.

We didn’t have to put her in her carrier – she decided to sleep there (she may not decide this any time again soon). As soon as my wife closed the carrier door, however, Patches knew that something was wrong. When the carrier went out the car, she knew that she was going for a ride, and she hates going for a ride. She immediately started a howling that sounded like “A-OO!” every ten seconds or so. Repeated assurances that she wasn’t going to be abandoned, that Mom and Dad were right in the car with her, were of no avail.

Arriving at the vet’s (which is fairly close, so we didn’t have to listen to "A-OO! more than about ten minutes), Patches quieted down when the car stopped moving. She didn’t even meow when the dog came and sniffed at her through the front of the carrier (too miserable to swat it, no doubt).

Then came the actual exam. She gained another pound last year, probably because she’s now an indoor-only cat, so we’ll have to cut down on her food (she’ll love us for that:rolleyes: ). She has a broken tooth, which will have to be extracted at a later date. The vet spent a lot of time kneading her and spinning her around on the examining table (so that’s why they’re made of polished stainless); she spent the time that she wasn’t being kneaded and spun around cowering up against my wife.

Then she got taken out of the room for blood and stool samples. The vet poked his head back in: “Do you want me to clip her claws?” “Sure,” I replied, “why not?” Well, I found out why not; the ones on the front paws, at least, were cut short and blunt, and now the poor kitty can’t climb up on the bed (although she jumps into the tub to use her litter box all right. Hmmm…).

All over, and the carrier was produced (Patches immediately fled back inside). Home again, and another ten minutes of “A-OO!”. Let her out in the house, and she ran right to her food dish and stuffed herself (the poor thing hadn’t had any food in nearly an hour! Oh, the humanity!). She’s now laying, indignantly (you can sleep indignantly, right?), in the spare bedroom, in the hopes that she’ll be spared another visit to the vet for another year (barring the tooth extraction, she probably will be).

(N.B.: Actually, however much animals and their owners dislike veterinary visits, the veterinarians and their assistants deserve nothing but praise. Patches is a gentle and submissive cat, but not all animals are, nor are all medical problems as emotionally and physically trivial as her broken tooth. Veterinarian/veterinary assistant is a job that I doubt most of us want or could handle.)

I hear ya, Akatsukami. With six cats and three dogs, I make multiple trips to the vet every year. The last one was yesterday, to pick up my freshly spayed springer spaniel. Last night Phyllis was uncharacteristically subdued, but today she’s at about 90% of full power.

Our vet is great. He’s a big, swarthy, mean-looking guy, but watching him sweet-talk a kitten is something to see. He’s correctly diagnosed our animals over the phone, and he was so kind when our previous springer, Miss Emily, arrived DOA on a cold Sunday night right before last Christmas. He gave us a discount when we brought in three kittens to be neutered all at once. And he laughed with us, not at us, when we had a rather embarrassing identity mix-up with one of our cats. (I told my husband that this cat still had its balls, but he swore it had been neutered and was therefore our prodigal Guy, returned. We took Kitty X in for a professional opinion. I was right – and we ended up adopting and neutering “Tom.” Guy remains at large.)

Cheers to the vets
Who take care of our pets!

There are some animals that just cannot deal with all the trauma of the vet and I can’t blame them.

My poor dog is so sweet and gentle otherwise, but he panics and snaps and bites when it’s vet-time.

I think it would be easier if the vet made house-calls.

Imagine what it’s like for a dog-
The smell of the vet has to drive him insane! All he can smell is fear, panic, anger, medicine and cats.

No wonder they panic.

If you are a cat you certainly can – seen it too many times with my two puddy tats.

I have to say that because of this thread, I decided to trim my cats’ front nails.

I’ve had her since early spring and haven’t trimmed them yet. In fact, I didn’t know you had to.

I waited for her to sleep, snuck up from behind, and pinned her down on the couch (I actually felt like I was doing something illegal).

Before she really knew what hit, I had half of her front paw done (I used my toenail clippers). She wasn’t too happy when I moved to the second paw. I got the same Oo-WWw you got, but managed to finish.

Amazingly, once I finished she popped right up and came over for a pet. That surprised me, but I guess they have a pretty short-term memory.

Oh well, at least this thread got someone to bite the bullet and do what’s right for the cat, whether or not she appreciates it.


Might make some people feel better to know that some of my cats are afraid of the vet too! Sometimes the pets of vets and vet nurses are the WORST patients!

Waaay back on Tuesday the 20[sup]th[/sup] I wrote:

Well, I was wrong (the novelty value of being wrong has long since worn off). Last evening Patches went in her carrier to sleep, and even as I write she is sleeping in it again (not still; she spent most of the night on the bed, and woke me about 0515 today to see if she could scam some more food out of me).

Of course, she has to go back to the vet next week to have that broken tooth extracted, and the experience may cause her to avoid the carrier for two days this time :slight_smile: