Fidget's Visit to The Vet

There hasn't been a vet in Exeter for years, but a little while ago the old vet clinic opened up again and I was very pleased to see that it was being run by the vet from Legana that I had taken Sophie the chookum to. While Sophie's story didn't have a happy ending, I had really liked that vet and thought that she was one of only a handful of vets I've met that I would trust with my animals. Having a vet that I actually like only 5 minutes away from Mum and Dad's is fantastic because Fidget absolutely hates travelling and it stresses her so much that I've always been a bit worried about what we'd do if she got sick. We've been in that situation before, but that time she was so unwell that she didn't have the energy to make too much of a fuss and we didn't have a choice so she had to be taken on the hour round trip to get treatment.

Fidget is in very good health at the moment, but as she is 18 and I wanted to build a relationship with the new vet, I decided to take her in for a check-up. So on Monday morning I prepared to take her into the vet. I was a bit stressed about how she would react, but Fidget didn't seem to pick up on it and was having a snuggle on my lap when it came time to leave. She didn't want to go into the cat carrier, but I got her in fairly easily because I had taken her by surprise. As soon as the car door was shut, before the engine was even on, she started crying. She cried louder and more pathetically than I have ever heard a cat cry before. I nearly changed my mind before we'd even made it to the bottom of the road, but I steeled myself and kept of driving, murmuring comforting words and trying not to feel like a traitor.

We got to the vet and Fidget calmed down a little when she was out of the car, but then went for a scared silence when she was let out of the carrier onto the examination table. She let the vet examine her all over without complaining at all whereas she is usually very vocal in reprimanding us if we touch her tummy and her sore spot in her hips. She was a very good girl and she was given a clean bill of health. The vet said that she was the healthiest and most beautiful 18 year old cat that she had ever seen and that we should keep doing exactly what we have been. I was so proud of my kitten and, with a bottle of anti-inflammatory pain relief for when her arthritis is playing up, we were sent home. It was quite the feat to get Fidget back into the cat carrier, but I managed to ambush her and get her in despite her best efforts to make herself bigger than the opening with all four legs held rigid in different directions. As soon as we were in the car again the crying started, but 5 minutes later we were home.

I carried her back into the living room, put the carrier on her favourite chair, and opened the door. She looked more surprised than pleased to be home. I was ready with bribes of warm roast chicken to apologise for my treachery, but I didn't expect her to forgive me for days. It very much surprised me that, after a lap of the house to make sure it was all still there and there were no vets hiding around corners, Fidget came to me for a cuddle. She forgave me straight away, but by the evil glare she was giving the cat carrier and the very wide path she took to walk around it, she was definitely planning to hold a grudge with it for a while.

Fidget got through her ordeal without any lasting damage and I've had reports that she may have even started forgiving the cat carrier, or at least that her curiosity is greater than her fear of it because she was sticking her head into to it the next day.