CHLOE'S GREAT ESCAPE

by Linda Gavitt

This is a tragic story of a doctor's appointment gone bad. It involves Princess Chloe (who just thinks she’s a princess) and her annual physical.  I was also bringing Yoshie in too because he seemed to be starting with bladder problems, and I wanted to catch it as early as possible. He is the one who always hides on me when I even touch the cat carrier. He's done it more than once to me.  So I put him in the carrier first, and then I went and got Chloe and carried her downstairs. 

She squirmed a little, but as I put her in the carrier she fought like a tiger. She even let out a scream as I tried to grab her while she wiggled strenuously.  I was not able to hold on, and in an instant she was gone to some secret little corner of the house.  Let me just say that I was not injured during this melee, but she did manage to escape and hide.  So after searching as long as I could I left without her. 

They took Yoshie to keep him for a while in order to obtain a urine spec and gave me a 3pm appointment for Chloe.   Now here's the pathetic part.  I worried all day about my relationship with Chloe.  I thought she wouldn't trust me anymore, that she'd run when I tried to pick her up and that she wouldn't sleep on my bed. I was genuinely upset about that. I even wrote about it in my journal. Three pm rolled around, and still no Chloe. I had to cancel that appointment too.  I picked up Yoshie later on - he did have a bladder infection and is on antibiotics.

Chloe showed up at about 4:30pm, chirped a little at me and rubbed against my legs and acted like nothing had happened.  When I stroked her gently she purred loudly enough to hear it across the room. Why wouldn’t she purr?  She got exactly what she wanted - nothing – no carrier, no trip, no shots.  I hate it when they get the last word.

I was so relieved that she wasn't holding a grudge that I almost cried.  Normally I wouldn't be that insecure about my kitties, but Chloe was a challenge.  I had worked hard to win Chloe over and decrease her anxiety.  Her behaviour when she first came to me reminded me of soldiers with PTSD.  I wanted her to be relaxed and happy.  I was certain I'd blown it trying to get her into the carrier, but her purring was a welcome reassurance that all was well.

She has refused any discussion of these events, actually pretending she doesn't remember.  I'll make an appointment again in a few weeks, but I'm not telling her about it.  I’ll have to be a little more devious next time.

© Linda Gavitt

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