cats

I always thought cats were easier than dogs. A bowl of water, a bowl of food, a litter box, and attention on demand. Their demand, of course. That was before I met B&R.

When dogs have appointments at the vet, unless they're very sick, they're happy as larks to go somewhere. Anywhere. Including the vet. Even glance at their leashes, and they're bouncing around, ready to go. When you get there, they drag you through the parking lot, wagging away, eager to get in the building and do their sniffing routine. They're even happy to see the vet.

Then there are cats. You need days to plan. So many decisions. How soon do you get the carriers out? Will they remember the last time they were in the carriers? Will you be able to find them when the time comes? What will you do if you can't find them? Would it be easier to put them in from the top or the end of the carrier? Has anyone ever had a heart attack trying to catch a cat and get her in the carrier? Then, of course, there's the car ride. Not a good thing. When you get them home, will they ever stop acting like they've never seen each other before? Will they ever acknowledge your presence again?

2:38 a.m.: I've been on litter box watch all day. No luck so far. Somehow I think Batsel knows. Meanwhile, as I contemplate the experience I'm going to have later today, she's ripping and running through the house with Ratsel. I'm torn between hoping she's a little bit sick so it will make all this worth it and hoping there's nothing wrong. Well, yes, I absolutely hope there's nothing wrong.

Cats are NOT easier than dogs.