No Flies On This Feline – by Zoe the Cat…

No Flies On This Feline

Greetings, friends! Zoe here with a “good news/bad news” story for your reading pleasure. To those of you who don’t know me from Adam—or I should say, from Eve—allow me a brief introduction. My name is Zoe, and I live with my human, Emily. I write stories about my adventures, but sometimes my adventures are not all that much fun.

For example, take my trips to the veterinarian to get my nails trimmed. These outings are an adventure alright—for the staff. For me, not so much. For me, they are pure agony. I’ve written about this before, but during my most recent visit, something different happened and that’s what I want to tell you about today. However, for you to fully appreciate this story, you need to know what happened at a previous appointment.

Several weeks ago, while on my way to the torture chamber to get my claws clipped, I thought about how I had endured enough of this indignity. So, I decided that, once there, I would be even more recalcitrant than usual. (Recalcitrant is a five-dollar word meaning refractory, which is a six-dollar word meaning … oh, forget it.)

Anyway, I planned to be so difficult, the wannabe Torquemadas would put me back in my carrying case and send me home just to be rid of me—leaving my nails as they were when I arrived. I imagined the vet apologizing to Emily that, although they had enjoyed caring for me and would miss me, no future appointments could be made because their healthcare company did not insure against being mauled by over-the-top-angry cats.

But, alas, that did not happen.

Instead, after my nails had been clipped, the technician handed me and a small bottle to Emily. Pointing to the bottle, she said, “Be sure to give Zoe a dose of that before bringing her in for the next visit. We prescribe this for all our patients who are a bit—shall we say—rambunctious.”

When we got home, Emily put the bottle in the refrigerator, and I forgot about it until a few days ago, which brings us back to today’s story, when Emily took out my carrying case and then tried to trick me. Allow me to put it this way—she dished out my favorite food, retrieved that bottle from the refrigerator, and mixed a few drops from it into my food before putting it down before me.

I don’t know why she was surprised when I turned up my nose and walked away. I mean, do I look stupid? She tampered with it right in front of me! But even if I hadn’t seen her do it, I would have smelled the strange odor emanating from the food bowl. I knew the vet’s office was mad at me, but . . . to poison me? That seemed like an extreme reaction. No matter—there ain’t no flies on this feline! I knew enough to not take even a tiny taste.

She didn’t try any other tomfoolery to entice me to eat the suspect food, but she did manage to trick me onto her lap and lickety-split, I was in the carrier and on my way to the dreaded vet’s office.

At the beginning of this gabfest, I promised you a good news/bad news story. I’ll give you the bad news first.

Because Emily had been unable to get me to ingest the mystery liquid (which I learned was only a sedative), the visit was like all previous visits. A disaster for all of us. The vet’s staff dragged me, figuratively speaking, into the backroom of horrors, and donned so much protective gear they looked like aliens. Two held me down while the vet clipped my beautiful, sharp nails. I was beyond miserable when they returned me to Emily.

Back in the car, Emily tried to soothe me with her insipid baby talk that she thinks I like. She put her hand against the net of the carrying case, as if to comfort me. But I wasn’t having any of it. I let out with the loudest hiss I ever hissed. At the same time, my paw became like a cobra, lashing out fast and furiously. Emily ignored my temper tantrum, started the car, and headed for home. When we got there, she gave me treats, and I felt a little better.

Now for the good news: Emily promised that I would never have to have my nails trimmed again. About damn time, if you ask me!

Zoe & Emily both live HERE

Zoe’s Facebook Page is HERE

Emily’s Facebook Page is HERE

Emily’s Sunrise Editing Services

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NOTE:

You can catch up with any Zoe the Cat Posts you may have missed, by any of the following three means:

Clicking on the Zoe the Cat tag at the bottom of her posts

Typing Zoe into the Search box top right of blog and Enter or Return

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44 thoughts on “No Flies On This Feline – by Zoe the Cat…

  1. I am fortunate both my cats don’t care when they get their claws clipped. I can do all 20 in less than 10 minutes. It helps if they are distracted. I take them in the garage and they are so busy looking around they just let me fuss with their paws. A previous cat I would take in the shower. It was an enclosed space. I would get one or two paws done, then she would get to fidgety so I would let her go, but there wasn’t much room for her to go. I would wait then try again. Perhaps you should give all the claw-cutters in your world a break, Zoe? 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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