Have You Hugged Your Vet Today?

Today is the day that I have been counting down all year. It's been circled in red on my calendar, and planned out as strategically as D-Day. Except it's V-Day. Vet Day.

No, not Veterans' Day -- that was last week. I mean Veterinarian Day, the day when all seven, yes all seven, of the cats go in for their annual physicals, shot updates and pedicures.

I look forward to this annual event about as much as the French aristocrats looked forward to that ride to the guillotine. I always feel like asking for a blindfold, a cigarette and a shot of whiskey beforehand.

Now why, in the name of God, you may well ask, would anybody in their right mind willingly undertake a maneuver involving seven cats at one time?

The same reason you rip the Band Aid off a healed sore and cannonball into a cold swimming hole. You just want to get it over with.

Preps begin the night before. As the kitties slumber peacefully -- all unawares of the fate awaiting them the next day -- I sneak the carriers into the house and into the back bedroom. The next morning, after breakfast, I line the carriers up -- doors open and forward facing in the hallway and cut off all means of egress.

Familiar with the term "herding cats"? Yep, that's just what's about to commence here.

As the kitties settle down for the first of many post-prandial naps of the day, I carry them away, by one, down the hall and into a waiting carrier. By the third trip, heads are up, whiskers twitching on the alert. Inevitably one or two will get away. Today CJ eluded capture. Never mind, she'll get hers next week.

Carriers are loaded, in formation, into the car. A warning call is placed to the Davis Veterinary Clinic. And the cat-mobile is underway.

With military efficiency, the awaiting vet team unloads the car, whisks the carriers past the other waiting cats and d-o-g-s into the exam room. Amid much mewing, yowling, and hissing, carriers are numbered, syringes filled, ears, eyes and teeth examined, weight measured, shots administered and claws trimmed. The usual suspects are whisked aside for urine tests.

In less than an hour, we're all back home, and the cats are enjoying their well-deserved treats.

So to Dr. Chip, Dr. Davis, both Rebeccas, Sarah, Michelle, Brooke and all the other folks down at the Davis Veterinary Clinic I send hugs and thank yous from the House Where the Black Cat Lives. You guys make my crazy life possible.

I think I'll have that shot of whiskey now.