Posted by: peterhact | April 18, 2012

Are we going to the Vet, you Bastard?

The Search and Destroy Cat module has been a bit out of sorts this week. Firstly, Mummy appeared at home, gave him a pat, took a couple of boxes and left. Hmm. That is pretty strange behavior already. Then, the kids didn’t seem to be keen to continue the mental onslaught that the pact had created. They still scratched his chin, patted him, called him Mr Fluffy, then left with tears in their eyes. He didn’t do anything!

Then it hit him. The house must be sold.

There were strangers in the house, he halfheartedly gutted one when they tried to fend him off whilst carrying the bedside drawers, but he was so confused about the distinct lack of prevention of his being in the house, he sought out a chair that wasn’t there, a bed that had gone, and settled for glowering under the bench in the laundry. Then, the men were gone. So was I.

When I returned to the house, laden with the cat capture apparatus, gloves, snake prod, cattle prod, chair, cage, reinforced net, token food, first aid kit and body armor, he  realised that something was up. the house was empty. no escape route over couches, under tables, through blinds, under beds. he was trapped. He saw that a door was ajar, and bolted for freedom. nup. now I had him in the cage with his fluffy bed (don’t ask) and equally fluffy rabbit toy called Bunny. (please don’t ask, he is watching me closely) I closed the door of the cage, bolted it, padlocked the chains to it and started to walk to the car.

This in itself was a challenge. he was throwing himself from side to side in the cage, (the reason for the fluffy bed and toy) yowling, and trying. to. hook. my. arm. through. the. bars. I put the cage in the car, got the seatbelt, strapped the cage in, and extricated his claws that had sunk to the hilt in my arm like steel needles or fangs. So far, so good.

The thing is, the new house is in the same direction as the vet’s place. It is really close by. (the Vet doesn’t know yet, it’s a surprise) so, as I drove towards the vet, the first line of defence was deployed. The Search and Destroy Cat module has three distinct defences. They are:

1. Pleading with a cute little kitteh face, big eyes full of cutesy wutesy, almost with tears in them – cats don’t cry, they can’t, but still worth a try.

2. Sticking a paw out of the cage, holding one’s breath to make one skinny and hooking a driver arm. – I had strapped shin pads to my arm. these deflected all attacks.

3. Skunk Cat. In the confined spaces of a car, this is particularly lethal. putting the windows down just creates a smoke cloud that stuns other drivers. I couldn’t do that to others. I had packed a portable gas mask. I had put it on before driving off. I was fine. Then, the other effect that skunk cat has kicked in. Spiders appeared from nowhere. a huntsman fell off the sunvisor onto my hat. I felt it land, and steeled myself for the inevitable. Don’t get me wrong, I am not arachnophobic, but a spider in your line of vision when driving is still disconcerting. I opened my window, and threw the small furry body out the window… (the spider, not the cat)

So we turned off at our new street, which created confusion. Maybe I was going a different way to the vet? maybe I had found a new vet, an unsuspecting sucker new vet who hasn’t experienced the ways of the search and destroy cat module? (no chance, vets talk, they all know him by his real name) so he decided to ask…

“Are we going to the Vet, you Bastard?”

No, we aren’t. here we are, your new home….


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