Screams from the Examining Room

Let me get it over with ... Marley hated his visit to the vet, and made sure everybody in a 4 block radius knew about it. Our two stray cats dont like trips to the vet, but are compliant and don't make a fuss. Marley more than made up for the both of them.

And the thing that gets me is that EVERYBODY tried to make it nice for him. He was "just" there to get checked for feline leukemia and to get a vaccination. I'll tell you one thing, from the sounds emanating from that room, people outside must have been picturing that cartoon cat who has his paw in an electrical outlet with his fur standing up and all four legs extended while he shrieked.

Marley hates getting in the crate, and complained all the way to the vets. He was quiet in the waiting room, but then he wouldn't come out when we went into the examining room. The assistant foolishly tried to drag him out but had to give up. So I reached in, and by tilting the crate was able to slide him down and out. So I scooped him up to give him fatherly comfort. He immediately started growling. The assistant tried to give him the "nice kitty" pet and so Marley stood back, hissed loudly and swatted at her. She wisely retreated, and we considered alternatives while we listened to Marley growling like a 60's era high performance race car with no muffler.

We were beginning to suspect that there may be a problem. The assistant very professionally explained to us that this sort of thing happens, but that they handle it, and although it may get a little distressing to us, we shouldn't worry because cats sometimes get like this. As she comes a little closer while explaining that I should be careful as to how I hold him because cat bites aren't good, Marley sits up, hisses, bites me in the hand (luckily he was just sane enough to realize it was me and barely broke the skin) then swatted and hissed again.

The vet walks in and stops. Clearly this guy is a veteran because he knows somethings up. He asks if we think Marley will allow him to do a little exam, and we tell him that we seriously doubt it. So the plan is to give him an injection that will knock him pretty much out in just a few minutes and can be reversed just as quickly. We all agree this is best.

There is, of course, the little matter of getting the injection in ... and I'm just hoping the vet doesn't ask me to do it. Everybody is looking like they feel the same way. The vet goes to get the shot, and the assistant,  still looking professional although perhaps a little pale, explains that she will put a towel over Marley and hold him down while the vet gives the shot. We shouldn't worry even though it might seem a little severe. Mary Ann and I look at each other in a way that says "do you think this is as unlikely to work as I do?" But we get ready.

I'm still holding Marley when the vet returns with a professional smile on his face and a needle in his hand. Its time for the pros to go to work, so the assistant closes in with the towel and clamps down on Marley, I quickly add my hands to help, and the vet moves in towards what has now become a writhing, snarling, howling towel-wrapped devil. The vet courageously moves in, someone bares Marley's hindquarters, and the Vet sticks the needle in.

To actually grasp what happens next, you must take a few minutes to remember the most scary scenes from the Exorcist. As the needle goes in, Marley s shrieks grew from the strength of a human adult yelling to something from the bowels of hell. It was so loud that I'd swear that the window glass rattled, and at the same moment suddenly all four of us were thrown back as the tornado under the towel unleashed his true force, then used this moment to levitate out from under the towel and fly to the floor where in a shower of hisses and snarls, he ran under a bench affixed to the wall.

We all looked at each other. The vet wiped sweat from his brow, and with a forlorn look explained that he hadn't been able to get the shot in. I felt like I was going to cry.

The assistant moved around the table and towards the noises coming from under the bench. She tried to move in with the towel, but Marley was having none of it. He had found the one hard-to-get at-me place in the room, and he was prepared to defend himself. As she moved in, he was hissing like a deranged steam locomotive, and his paws were swatting so fast they could hardly be seen. If you've ever seen a martial arts movie where the fighters supposedly move their limbs so fast that the air whistles, you will know what I mean when I tell you we heard the real thing.

The vet thinks for a moment, and suggests that we push his crate under one end of the bench to force him out the other and block his retreat back there, but the crate wont fit and its looking pretty dangerous to get within a crates length of him anyway. The vet then looks at the amount of serum in the needle, and decides that he doesn't have enough and tells us he will be right back. The assistant explains to us that they may need to use a special device to help restrain him that they occasionally have to use. I'm thinking they might actually need the Marines, or perhaps artillery.

As the vet walks back in, the assistant kind of quietly says something to him like "should we use the green net... I explained to them about it." But the vet has a different plan. He has brought a classic piece of technology specifically used to flush out a cat. Its called a broom. So the assistant gets positioned at one end of the bench with the towel (no, I cant explain the confidence they have in a towel) and the vet, using all of the veterinary skills he learned at school, goes in with the broom from the other end.

Marley is pushed to the far end, and although its hard to hear anything with his screams, he puts up a good fight, but cant seem to cause much damage to the broom bristles with his claws, teeth and hissing, and is eventually pushed out the other end of the bench. You will pardon the expression if I say that the assistant put the towel on him and POUNCED, holding him down with all her might. He writhed and thrashed and loudly complained but she had him. The Vet was no longer explaining and showing where the needle would go - he just pushed it right through the towel into Marley, gave him a high decibel inducing injection, and both the vet and the assistant backed off. Marley immediately quieted since he was obviously effectively hidden - he couldn't see anyone and no one was touching him.

If he wasn't moving, none of us wanted to bother him. The vet said he would be back in a few minutes, and in the meantime, we should not do anything to excite him while the shot took effect. Mary Ann and I sat down on the bench, both relieved that we wouldn't have to risk ourselves by checking under the towel.

The rest of the visit is a little anticlimactic. Despite the fact that there was no movement under the towel except for breathing, everyone agreed that we should give him a little extra time to go under. In the 5 or so minutes that took place after the shot, a magical transformation took place because when they pulled off the blanket that crazy monster had turned into our sweet little Marley, eyes open but completely zonked out. When they picked him up off the floor, what had looked like a little vomit from the trauma turned out to be a giant pile of vomit that he zonked into and had to get cleaned up a bit.

At that point, he wasn't complaining, so he got his full physical in addition to the specifics we had him there for. When all was done, the vet gave him another shot, poured him back into his crate and we waited for him to wake back up outside. This also took only a few minutes, and he was calm but awake and moving by the time the results came in.

So we made it through the visit, and I only have one scar, and it didn't bleed much at all, even less than the one the assistant got. And I wouldn't have been surprised to see a line "hazardous duty pay" on the bill, but there wasn't one. The vet did say that we should bring him back within 6 months to get his teeth cleaned.

I'll bet that the vet will be watching for an appointment to be made so he can put in for a vacation day!