When the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty first came to live with me, he was a nice enough cat. He was funny, playful and it was rather refreshing to have such a young feline capering about the manse. However, he wasn't much more than a house guest for a while. He seemed to think that it would be fun while it lasted but that getting overly attached would be a bad idea. After a fashion, though, he decided that he loved me. He wrapped himself around my feet and stayed firmly huddled.
This was wonderful because I loved him, too. But the new order came with a price. The AGK does not love all willy-nilly. If he was going to love me, then he would love no other. And he was going to be painfully obvious about it. Woe be to anyone who entered his happy home because there would be repercussions. While the blogging world might see naught but a happy, goofy fellow, I have been left with actual bruises following his panicked flights upon seeing other humans.
You can imagine how much I was dreading this year's appointment with the vet. I didn't even go last year because I became so stressed out by the very thought of what he might do. The Cat Whisperer is just a little mite of a thing and the AGK is a massive ball of human hater. He could crush her and steal her wallet in the time it took her to realize she was in peril.
I couldn't put it off any longer, though. I had to take him. And today was that day. I barely slept last night for the stress of it. I couldn't eat this morning. I opted to not take the knitting with me because I didn't think I could manage a heel flap while my killer cat tore apart victim after hapless victim.
As I sat with him in the exam room, the stress only intensified. He was crying in such a piteous way that one might think he wanted comfort. I knew better. He was just trying to lure me over so he could remove one or both of my nostrils. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me...
The Cat Whisperer came in, greeted me and cooed at the beast. I noticed that she was wearing no protective gear whatsoever. "She doesn't get it," I thought. "He'll be wearing her lab coat in under five minutes." Weakly, I repeated the warning I'd been giving every staff member in the place since I first made the appointment.
The Cat Whisperer smiled at me and said softly, "This usually works well with the red-heads." She then produced a glass vial. I immediately assumed the fetal position and covered my face so that the soon-to-be-flying shards wouldn't hit my eyes. I waited.
Then I heard the soft chuckling of the vet and her technician. "Oh yeah...he likes it," The Cat Whisperer said. I looked up to see my formerly panicked cat happily emerging from the carrier and trying to nuzzle the magical glass vial. Then he did the same to the vet.
She administered the flea treatment and he grinned like a fool. She gave him not one, but two vaccinations and I don't think I've ever seen him look happier. At that point, she took a short break because if I didn't know what was in that little glass tube I was going to lose my ever loving mind. It was a botanical aromatherapy oil and clearly sent to her office by the Almighty Himself. I purchased the vial right out of her hand.
She returned to her patient who was killing time by making goo-goo eyes at the vet tech. She examined every inch of him, including the parts that required lifting his tail. It took me months to be able to touch his tail, for crying out loud! He squirmed happily and preened at any comment he thought might be remotely related to his amazing, gi-normous physique. When invited to return to his carrier for the trip home, he politely declined and had to be coaxed back in with a treat and a few more whiffs of the magical stinky stuff.
Now, I know that vets are in their chosen careers because they have a way with animals. They do what they do because they are good at it. Animals aren't people and are pretty much always "in the moment." They react to what is happening in the here and now. While I give off a stress vibe, The Cat Whisperer will send out more soothing and authoritative non-verbal messages. A little dab of essential oil isn't the whole story here. I get that.
But still...it was something of a miracle to mine eyes. The reaction was sudden and so helpful in my particular situation. I can't decided whether The Cat Whisperer is a genius or the Lord High Dark Wizard of the veterinary circle. Either way, the appointment was a success. (Unless you count the part where she gently pointed out the weight gain...) The cat is home and happy. The kitty mommy is relieved.
He spent the rest of the day in the predictable, post-vaccination stupor. That's the one where he becomes a carpet speed bump.
And I just know he was dreaming of The Cat Whisperer.