Three Against One? The Cat Triumphs Against All Odds

Photo ©Pop

Dateline: last Wednesday. The cat ponders. "Hmmm, it's Wednesday and Pop isn't getting ready for work. I hope he isn't sick or hasn't gotten downsized. Maybe he's just taking some me-time otherwise known as PTO, unless 45 has signed an executive order doing away with paid time off. I'll just keep aware of my surroundings until I find out what's happening."

What is happening? Will it affect The Cat? Would there be a blog post if it didn't?

TW got up early for her but things seemed normal while they ate breakfast. Then I saw it: my old PTU came out of hiding. Yesterday there was a new soft-sided PTU that made an appearance. The peeps talked among themselves. "Blah blah blah-de-blah." Whatever. Then something unusual happened—I heard TW shutting her bedroom door! Suddenly I had an inkling of impending doom and squeaked through before it could be shut.

While in my office UTB, I didn't hear the peeps squabbling. They made no effort to flush me out. Maybe I was mistaken. TW was at the computer working and Pop was reading something on his i-pawd. I got brave and jumped up on Pop's bed. There were no grabby hands. I started to drift off while TW typed.

The next thing I know Pop picked me up and started talking softly to me. I heard the sound of TW banging something around as she headed for the bedroom. I struggled mightily but Pop held onto me. I was shoved very roughly into the PTU; a cab was called.

Before long I, Cathy Keisha, was staring into the face of Dr. D. at the Secaucus Animal Hospital, an AAHA-credited institution as the sign on the door read. I don't know what I did to deserve this fate. I hadn't had a bad asthma attack in a couple of weeks. There's nothing wrong with me but here I am. The three humans talked; "blah blah"—Wait! I better listen this time. Oh, it's that dirty ear thing! I should have known.

Photo ©Pop

Dr. D. stuck a light into my ear and said the ear canal wasn't inflamed so it was probably wax. Then she dug a q-tip in both ears like she was digging for gold to get "space-e-men." I wasn't seeing Neil Armstrong but I remained calm. After all, TW promised me Chinese food for dinner if I was good. I let her wipe the muck outta the dirty ear without a fight. She checked my lungs and I was so good I could practically taste the pork-fried rice. Then the worm turned.

The good Dr. D. said she thought she took bloods last year so we'd skip this year. TW jumped up to disagree. She wanted my blood like I usually want her's. One look at my records showed it was time. Dr. D. called a couple of evil henchwomen into the room while TW slipped out the back way. That's when I freaked bigly.

Photo ©Pop

I saw Dr. D. coming at me with the biggest needle I'd seen in my life. I told Dr. D. I'd make a deal. I'd let her get a vial of my blood if I could get a pint of her's. She declined so I hid my veins. I hid the veins in both legs. She poked with her fingers and I struggled.

Photo ©Pop

There was three against one but I fought. Boy, did I fight! I used all the martial arts I learned on the PAW, back in the hood. I fought with all the strength in my 10.6-lb body. They were only doing this over my dead body! I growled. I hissed. I screamed. I spit. I scratched and bit but that stupid welding glove the tech wore wasn't giving. I grabbed my claw on it and tried to pull it off. Then I pulled out my secret weapon!

Photo ©Pop

I began to pant and cough! Yes, I played the Asthma Card. My mouth hung open and my tongue hung out as I gasped for breath. It worked; they stopped. Pop and Dr. D. tried to calm me. As soon as I stopped, they grabbed me again. I was tired but I was ready for another round.

Photo ©Pop

What seemed like hours later, Dr. D. decided I was stressed enough and stopped the madness. Boy, was I mad! I'd never been so mad in all my 12 years! I glowered at them. I heard Dr. D. joke about it being a good thing cats didn't really have laser eyes. Then guess what happened?

Miss Sunshine, TW, waltzed back into the room with, of all things, a cup of coffee. Yes, she was out getting a coffee break while I was locked in the battle of my life. She looked at us all and brilliantly said "you didn't get the blood?"

Not only didn't they get blood but I got out of the nail trim AND the anal probe. I was too stressed.

Oh, and can you believe the last straw was when TW and Dr. D. started talking about Myrtle Beach since Dr. D. is originally from SC? Nice. I'll be home trying to get over my trauma while TW is visiting Broadway on the Beach. Very nice.

When I got home, there was another indignity awaiting me which is for another post. But I can tell you now: there. was. no. Chinese. food.