Topper Takes the Cake!

image2Well, my first title idea was “Post-Vet Guilt”, but that didn’t sound very creative.  So….here are the thoughts running through my mind like an exhausted athlete in a marathon….

A vet visit to a cat must be a lot like a dental visit to humans.  Some people dread it, but they can deal with it and move on.  Some look forward to it or are happy to go.  Others fear it so mightily that they need a sedative to calm them during the ordeal.  Similarly, I’ve had a cat that is the feline counterpart of each of those.

The first would be Jasper.  The mighty beast would transform into the Cowardly Lion when entering his plastic jail to be carried to the vet.  Dr. Geyman was always entertained with my stories of his antics because she never saw the “Real Jasper” due to his dread of his time there.  However, as soon as we’d walk away from the clinic, he was back to his normal.  He’d relax on the drive home, run off in disgust when we returned home until he forgave me for making him face the dread V word.

Then, there’s RockyTop.  The cat whose heart “seems good” but has never been fully stated due to his purr machine always being engaged AT the vet and ON the examination table.  Even when he went in for his surgeries, he came out being cuddled and adored by the staff and the purr machine was still engaged.  We returned to the house, and it was just normal routine.  Ready to eat.  Ready to play. Purring the whole time.

I thought Topper was going to be Rocky-ish.  His energy and attitude at home is proud and lively.  All the way up to the vet, he never uttered a single meow and made his first sound as we walked from the car into the clinic.  He stayed resting in his carrier as I left.  I figured….he’ll be a tough one to watch post-surgery because he’ll be running all over the place.  Then today, I picked him up.

I creatively scheduled my blood work at the Wellness Clinic shortly before Topper could be picked up, so I could supervise his reentry and make sure Rocky didn’t cause too much harm to him. The lady working the front desk took care of the bill then went back to get Topper’s carrier.

I looked and he was curled up in back of the carrier just like Tuesday.  Then, I opened the door and….

image1An ear-piercing crying-meow started.  It was pitiful and gut-wrenching and guilt-inducing.

I looked into the carrier and my lively little feline was shaking like a forgotten stray cat on a rainy night.  My eyes automatically reacted with a bit of tears, so I started talking to him….”It’s okay, Topper.  We’re going home to Brother.  You can cuddle my neck all stinkin’ day if you need to.”  I looked down at the stop sign, and he had sprawled out along the side of the carrier.  The feline chat continued, “We’ll be home soon, and you’ll feel better.”  As I pulled to the side of the road before whipping a U into my parking spot, I looked down, and there he lay.  He was curled up in the front of the carrier, right next to the gate, looking up at me.  Fearful cries were in the past.image3

Now, my lively little guy is curled up on the carpet.  I’ve had to use the “Water Police” to protect him from Rocky’s roughhousing until his energy returns to make it a fair rough-and-tumble.

Goodness!  I bet this is a smidgen of what parents feel when their children go to the doctor.  Maybe it’s a good thing I’m a single lady with no kids.  The guilt is too much for this lady.

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