Kneading on You. You may think this is a sign of affection, but your cat is actually checking your internal organs for weaknesses.
~from How to Tell if Your Cat is Plotting to Kill You
Yesterday, I carted up Mac and we headed to town for our vet appointment. I dropped Lys at the high school and made my way across town to collect my drive-thru breakfast before making a quick stop at the office. Within a few minutes of dropping Miss Alyssa, I was assaulted by a stench that – literally – brought tears to my eyes. I lowered the windows and tried to calm Mac but her nerves clearly had gotten the best of her. I stopped at the office for some paper towels and some cleaner and decided to make an early appearance at the vet clinic.
Dr. Greg hadn’t arrived yet so I begged the vet tech to borrow an exam room and clean up Mac before her debut appointment. Once in the room I forced open the windows and released Hell herself from the carrier. She left her prison like a shot and was soon a drenched, smelly mess on the other side of the exam room. I decided to let her gather herself so I took the opportunity to clean up the carrier. There are no words that can adequately convey to you the breath-robbing, eye-stabbing stink of that cat. I dabbed and rubbed at her wet fur without any measure of success. It really seemed like nothing more than busywork.
As Dr.Greg entered the room, his first words were “Wow, smells like a tom cat in here.” I quickly apologized and explained that she messed herself in the carrier on the way over. He placed Mac on the exam table and after the briefest palpation exclaimed – “…because it IS a tom cat.”
Congratulations, it’s a boy!
I burst out laughing. “Boy, do I feel stupid!” He assured me that I shouldn’t feel bad…it would be far worse, he explained, if THEY got it wrong.
(You should understand that this man knows that we have not actively pursued “pet owner status.” We do not go to pet stores, choose our pets, build our intelligence about their breed and behaviour and then dote upon them with our vast knowledge and skill. We are…instead…a small family of bleeding hearts that cannot turn their backs on a stray animal in peril and so we commit to their care in the absence of a loving owner. We are pet owners by circumstance.)
He excused himself from the room to gather the vaccinations. I could hear him tell his tech to correct Mac’s chart to show a male cat…”the she is actually a HE,” he said. I smiled and turned to Mac… "You tricky little bastard,” I whispered. I took those brief seconds to reflect on Mac’s behaviours and things began to fall into place. Wait until I tell the kids, I thought..
The rest of the appointment went very well (obnoxious odour notwithstanding) and Mac was treated for every possible parasite and disease before returning – with much help from Dr. Greg – to the carrier for our return trip home. I paid for the appointment and booked Mac’s neutering for next Thursday. The tech and I laughed about the Mac’s sexual confusion and I told her it was going to take some getting used to – I refer to the cats as “the girls” so I’m going to need some retraining. I suggested that in all likelihood, Mac would return to its rightful owner AFTER I vaccinate and neuter him and the tech reassured me that “at least” neutering was less expensive than spaying to which I thought…OK…silver lining. (I clung desperately to that little thread of positivity as I tried to bathe the stink off that tom cat later in the evening.)
So there you have it.
I confess to being an inadequate pet owner – so much so that I failed to correctly identify the sex of my cat. I confess also to surrendering to this irksome little beast. While I will continue to fondly refer to “my asshole cat,” I have to admit that he has grown on me. If I’m being honest, I kind of prefer “spunky” behaviour – predictable can sometimes be boring – and this little jerk kind of fits with our familial band of misfits anyhow.
Love him or hate him…Mac’s vet record clearly shows that we are now, officially, his family.
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