My cats have an aversion to the cat carrier. As a matter of fact, they hate it. When they see it, they run.
Some very lucky people can put the cat carrier out the day before the vet visit to get the cats acclimated. I cannot. I have to hide mine in the garage. I have to stealthily grab a cat and quickly remove it to the garage where I engage in all kinds of acrobatics to stuff the very unhappy cat into the carrier. If I am eventually successful, the cat is in the carrier and I still have hair.
Most times, the cat has held on to the edge of the crate with all 4 paws - just like in the cartoon - and with much hissing and gnashing of teeth manages to escape his temporary encarceration. I'm forced to start over. Find and stuff - that's my motto. I have been known to remove the cars from the garage before beginning the crating process just so they can't hide under them or in the engine. I'm getting wise in my old age.
It often takes to grown ups and one child to crate a cat. The elders hold two cat feet each and stuff, while the youngster slams the door shut. Of course all of these antics are noisy and the poor pitiful cries of the first now crated cat alert the second cat to her impending doom. By this time, though, I'm on my last frazzled nerve and adrenaline alone is all I need to get the second fickle feline crated. It's amazing how fast a crazy woman can catch a cat and stuff it in a crate!
I usually arrive at the vet covered in sweat and cat hair. I'm always at my most attractive when I haul my two howling and hissing cat crates in and plunk them, unceremoniously, on the exam table. Maxine is my stylist for all vet visits.
I am a cat owner. This is what I do.
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