DemonSpawn ~ No Comedy Of Errors

This morning I got up early {8:15 AM, yes AM} & got ready for my day. I had 3 appointments in 3 different towns, so planned on hopefully being on time for all of them.

Most stressful appointment of the day was taking DemonSpawn to the doctor. Normally, it takes 2 lumberjacks, 7 treats & a tranquilizer ~ for me, obviously ~ to get the wiry little bugger streak of lightning into his carrier. It requires skill, trickery, foresight, Jedi mind games, & brute force. It really should be an Olympic event. We plan our moves like chess players.

3 days before the "big event", the carrier gets removed from it's hidey-hole & placed conspicuously in the middle of the livingroom, where the Spawn can sniff & inspect it to his heart's content. This is in the hopes that he will come to view it as just another part of the decor, & not suspect anything on "the big day".

The day of, 30 minutes before it's time to leave, the house is scouted for the location of said Spawn of Satan. This must be done with an innocent look, or with an air of disinterest, so as not to spook the Spawn into thinking something is up. Doors are then closed, blocking all possible escape routes. The carrier is picked up & moved to the Spawn's location {but quietly, so as not to alert our quarry}.

Then, with the utmost stealth, we pounce on the Spawn, carrying him gingerly {with legs askew & tail twitching} to the carrier & attempt to stuff him in headfirst while he attempts to thwart our efforts by bracing all four feet on the rim of the door. This is best tried whilst wearing leather work gloves ~ the kind whistling construction workers wear ~ & 11 layers of clothing. 10-15 minutes & three escape attempts later, we usually succeed in forcing him into the carrier & we all carry on our merry way, driving to Harmony with the stereo blasting Guns 'n' Roses to drown out the yowling.

Today, he tricked me. Oh, he tricked me bad. I found him, sleeping in a dusty, unused room of Chez Wilma {otherwise known as "the sewing room"}. I brought in the carrier, shut the door, picked him up & put him at the opening. He balked for 2 seconds, then JUST WALKED RIGHT IN! What the hell?

You realize, boys & girls, that this defiant act, this deviation from our routine totally blew away my whole schedule as I now had 15 extra minutes to make the appointment. So, I used this time wisely, shopping for glass frames for my character in the play.

So, long story longer, DemonSpawn is a relatively healthy, 5.2 kg, 15 year old cat with grumpy tendencies, emerging cataracts, & a tooth infection. Caused by TARTAR! Poor little guy. I feel like such a neglectful mommy, letting his teeth get to such a state. He got 4 shots of whatever {leukemia, distemper, etc} plus a shot of antibiotics to make his mouth better. We stopped to visit Conrad & Bronco B ~ being hobbits, they were having their elevensies ~ then headed home to the Demon's relief.

Thankfully, this only happens once a year. I just couldn't take it more often.

I wonder how long he's going to ignore me?