Smirking Cat Goes to the Vet

The official Smirking Cat mascot, Rosie, was gracefully escorted to his awaiting chariot and whisked off to the vet office yesterday for a pleasant evening of tea, crimpets, and casual chit-chat……or, okay, maybe it was more like Rosie shot me woeful, why-do-you-hate-me? eyes while I crammed his meowing butt into his carrier and handed him off to Gary to console in the car as we trekked off to the vet. Rosie reminded us he was discontent by howling plaintively in the waiting room and shaking his carrier like it was possessed by spasmatic demonic spirits.

As soon as the vet walked into the examination room, Gary practically shone a light into her eyes and interrogated, “Tell me…would you say that this cat is fat?”

She chuckled, apparently not the first time she was called in to referee a debate over the girth of a cat in question, and ran her hands over Rosie’s sides. She declared him within a normal weight range…but at the high end of a normal weight range.

A-ha! “See?” I said victoriously. My affectionate nickname of “Fat Boy” for Rosie was now justified, no?

Rosie is a wee wisp of a cat at 13.7 pounds, and picking him up usually requires a spotter, a back belt, and a safety net. But the vet declared him a healthy hunk of feline love, and she even drew a smiley face on his report. At some point she made reference to wild cats in zoos, a comment Gary chose to decipher as “She said my cat is like a wild cat! A wild little panther!” Followed by drooling all over the cat as he pets him, nuzzles him, and praises him for being so good at the vet, “unlike SC’s cats.”

Hey! So Tweetie is known to bare a fang and let rip with a few menacing growls as soon as the vet touches him. Given that this person is wielding a thermometer to be inserted in his hiney, can you blame him for expressing some distaste in the scenario?

As we left, the vet was still laughing and said it was good to see us again. She may be second-guessing that sentiment when we arrive with this for the 3rd and final trip to the vet:

I definitely saved the best for last. Sylvester is a wild ball of thick fur, fat tail, crazy energy, and rapidly misfiring synapses. Gary cautioned the vet to have welding tools and body armor on stand-by, which the vet mistook for a joke and laughed. I wanted to urge her not to chortle at the possibility of her impending demise at the paws of my Satan-spawn kitty, but I will wait until I unleash the hellcat from his carrier and let her see for herself.

Awww, Sylvester has actually calmed down somewhat in his old age of almost 3 years old. He’s been known to curl up beside me for some good, old-fashioned belly rubbing (his, not mine) and even sleep every now and then. The vet may only need chainmail gloves and a hockey mask.

About TheSmirkingCat

I am endlessly trying to make sense of a world that has completely and unapologetically lost its mind.
This entry was posted in Rosie, Smirking Cat mascot, vet. Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Smirking Cat Goes to the Vet

  1. Just Me :) says:

    hahaha! oh my cat now is fairly calm but my childhood kitty HATED the car and REALLY HATED the vet. I have fond memories of wrestling her into/out of her carrier only to have her tare me apart when she realized she was at the vet.

  2. i am such a dork!!! cats put me into such a fabulous mood! and i love yours .. so cute… btw- my cleo that passed back in February… she was my fat girl that totally weighed in at around 15 lbs…

  3. Smirking Cat says:

    Gary and I now have bets going about whether the vet will say Sylvester is fat 🙂 He and the kids joke with me and call him fat, and I'll say “He's fluffy!” The vet will decide!

  4. phairhead says:

    hee hee nice sexy pose!

  5. Georgina says:

    Oh, the things we do for the love of Cats. Great post!

  6. I happen to be a vet and gotta tell you, I feel safer working on big, hard-hooved, kicking, rearing, bucking horses than on cats. I mean, they have claws people!! I do it when need be, but otherwise steer clear of those fangs and claws (Cat Scratch Fever anyone!?)
    Great post – you killed me with welding tools and body armor.

  7. Crys says:

    Ha ha! That's great. I was shocked to learn that Fat Cat had lost three pounds when we brought her in two weeks ago. She weighed a whopping 15 lbs. I was so proud.

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