The cats' hate for me is an OCEAN
No movie today, mostly last minute prep for the trip including dropping Rodney McKat and Dame Veronica off at the vet for boarding.
With time short before the vet closed, my stratagem for cat capture was to park in the main chair and peruse the mail until everyone came over for their nightly due of rampant ego (and other) stroking. I reached over and picked up Veronica, who was considering the notion of possibly leaping into my lap at some point least convenient to me. She purred like a buzz saw UNTIL I stood up and faced (not moved toward, just faced) the cat carrier. Veronica mutated into Opera!Kitty starring in Squirmaggeddon as Rodney sunk low to the floor and began edging away to pretty much anywhere else on Earth there were no kitty carriers.
At the vet, all of the regular kennel crew had left and I could tell the desk staff were playing a cutthroat if silent game of rock-paper-scissors over who was going to have to carry two feline biters to the back, weigh them in and cage them. Just for the record, by the way, Rodney McKat does not bite. Some lazy twat behind the counter slapped that sticker on both of them and it's, well, stuck ever since. I guess it balances out Veronica's understated "will bite" sticker, which should actually read "will attempt decapitation first, followed by evisceration then if all else fails, will scratch your eyes to juicy quivering slivers." Veronica does not take kindly to the inconvenience of boarding, but her health calls for that over home care.
I always carry her back, handle her weigh-in and dump her in her cage. The staff are on their own after I've got plausible deniability left the building. I did so tonight and am now home and packing for the trip tomorrow.
With time short before the vet closed, my stratagem for cat capture was to park in the main chair and peruse the mail until everyone came over for their nightly due of rampant ego (and other) stroking. I reached over and picked up Veronica, who was considering the notion of possibly leaping into my lap at some point least convenient to me. She purred like a buzz saw UNTIL I stood up and faced (not moved toward, just faced) the cat carrier. Veronica mutated into Opera!Kitty starring in Squirmaggeddon as Rodney sunk low to the floor and began edging away to pretty much anywhere else on Earth there were no kitty carriers.
At the vet, all of the regular kennel crew had left and I could tell the desk staff were playing a cutthroat if silent game of rock-paper-scissors over who was going to have to carry two feline biters to the back, weigh them in and cage them. Just for the record, by the way, Rodney McKat does not bite. Some lazy twat behind the counter slapped that sticker on both of them and it's, well, stuck ever since. I guess it balances out Veronica's understated "will bite" sticker, which should actually read "will attempt decapitation first, followed by evisceration then if all else fails, will scratch your eyes to juicy quivering slivers." Veronica does not take kindly to the inconvenience of boarding, but her health calls for that over home care.
I always carry her back, handle her weigh-in and dump her in her cage. The staff are on their own after I've got plausible deniability left the building. I did so tonight and am now home and packing for the trip tomorrow.