Thursday, September 11, 2008

Preparing for Battle

Only 30 minutes until it begins.

Today is the day the cats go to the vet. They are wandering around the house this a.m., wondering where breakfast is. Velcro is especially vigilant because she knows breakfast may be late because we ran out of canned cat food. Which means I might feel sorry for them and break out a precious can of tuna instead. Shhhhh. Don't read that out loud, she'll hear you and come running to your house. Don't spell it either, she knows what t-u-n-a spells.

Charley is milling around, dragging out all his toys. Will play for food.

Gollie is already hiding somewhere. The little spook. Well, today we have a net. That will get the cat caught. And probably Bob and I will end up getting scratched and bitten. Better check the band-aid drawer to make sure there's enough.

George (Bob named the orange cat) is outside. Oblivious.

All-in-all I'd rather deal with another runaway forklift.

2 comments:

Katherine Plumer said...

Good luck! I had to give Homer pills this morning, nearly lost a few limbs in the process. I'm sure your ordeal will be worse.

Jan Blawat said...

I played the "crimpled" card and asked the vet to give the cats their worm pills. I really can't pick Velcro up off the floor, and I'd sooner stick my hand in the blender than in Gollum's mouth. The last time the cats were in the vet's office was 4 years ago. Hopefully it will be at least another 4 years before they have to go back. It's sure a lot easier giving pills to a chicken.