(An earlier column)
I had scarcely opened my eyes last Thursday morning when I remembered the date - July 14. The day I had been dreading for the past two weeks. I looked at my dear, sweet Jasmine, curled up on the foot of the bed. My poor little baby, so unsuspecting, so innocent.
We had our morning coffee and "our" snack and I assumed an air of nonchalance as I went into the back room to get the carrier. Unzipping one of the "doors," I placed the carrier on the floor and Jasmine, eternally curious, immediately slithered into it to check it out. What kind of a monster am I? I zipped the door shut. She trusted me, and I had betrayed her. How could I? Tears filled my eyes.
Grabbing my purse, I picked up the carrier and headed for the garage. "Meow?" Jasmine asked tentatively. By the time I got her carrier buckled up into the seat belt her statements were more assertive. "Meow! Meow!" She was insulted. How dare a servant treat Her Royal Highness with so little respect! I backed the car out of the garage and set off for my hapless feline's "doctor's" appointment.
Her Meows grew increasingly louder and I was becoming completely unglued. I patted one of the mesh "windows" on the carrier, hoping to calm Jasmine down, but it had the adverse effect and the car was filled with the most earsplitting screams and shrieks I have ever witnessed. There is no word that describes the chilling sounds that emitted from that sweet little cat's mouth! The wails of banshees are nothing, in comparison. In desperation, I put a C.D. in, hoping the "music would soothe the savage beast." Wrong! It infuriated her and the volume rose to an even greater pitch, Jasmine making sure she could be heard above the music. I turned up the volume - so did Jasmine.
I talked to her in as soothing a voice as I could muster, but my words fell on deaf ears. Her doctor will definitely have to treat her for a very sore throat. How can I drive down the streets of Ely with Jasmine uttering such unearthly sounds? I will have every law enforcement officer within ten mlles chasing me.
After what seemed like several hours, we arrived at the veterinarian's office, I having prolonged the agony by taking a wrong turn in my nearly hysterical condition. Juggling carrier and purse, we had to enter two doors before gaining access to the receptionist. We reported in and Jasmine had lowered her screams a few decibels. A little girl glanced in horror at the carrier, her fingers in her mouth. She was terrified and ran to grab her mother's leg. I tried to explain that the cat was "not happy." She would be telling her playmates later in the day that she had seen a truly wicked witch that was torturing a poor little kitty.
In what seemed like another hour or two we were ushered into the examining room and I asked if I could place the carrier on the examining table. The pretty, sweet girl answered in the affirmative. The veterinarian made his appearance, calm, cool and collected, and released Jasmine from her prison. She stalked out of the carrier, head held high, and viewed her surroundings with disdain. Humans were such a pitiful, disgusting lot!
The vet began his examination and before my very eyes the screaming maniac turned into a docile, charming feline, looking up at him with those beautiful blue eyes. She submitted to his exam, got a vaccination and underwent his thorough checkup in a manner befitting a queen. As he moved to touch her ear, I warned, "Don't - - -" but before I could complete the sentence he was turning her ears practically inside out, checking out each convolution. No biting, no batting his hands away with her paws, no screeching, no strutting away. I cannot get within ten feet of her ears. Just a well mannered, dignified, beautiful queen. I stared in awe. The vet went to get the second syringe for another vaccination and gently placed Jasmine on the floor. As he discussed her health with me, I watched her apprehensively as she checked out the room. "She is fine; she can't get into anything," he assured me. How could he say that? His back was to his computer, and Jasmine enjoys operating computers. He was completely unconcerned, but I watched her warily. After his instructions about her care and a discussion, he gently picked Jasmine up and placed her in the carrier and she was totally compliant. I waited for the shrieks and screams - not even a meow.
The trip home was a repeat of the trip up to Ely, Jasmine having reverted to her shrieking self as we were driving away from the vet's office. I practically ran from the garage to the house and my hands were shaking as I unzipped the door of the carrier and freed my indignant feline, who stalked out of the carrier, completely ignoring me. She shook herself to realign her fur, started to groom herself and eyed me haughtily. I spent the remainder of the day ingratiating myself, trying to get back into her good graces. She remained aloof and distant. The only time she spoke to me was when she demanded to be fed - and she had to ask only once, believe me! I fell all over myself all day, trying to get back into her favor.
I pray that we are through with the vet for another year, even though he is a very, very nice man - one who can (temporarily) transform a raging wild beast into a cuddly, docile little pussy cat.
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Genesis 1:25 - And God made the beast of the earth after its kind, and cattle after their kind, and every thing that creepeth upon the earth after its kind: and God saw that it was good.
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See you next week.
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