But It Feels So Good When I Stop....

Some days it's just too damn hard.

Other days it's just beyond too damn hard.

Today was one of those days.

The Mangosteens had their neutering appointment today. I was to drop them off between 6:30 and 7:00 am. (AM!) I thought it'd be a little struggle getting them boxed up, so I allowed myself plenty of time for the old grab and stuff manuever that has worked SO well in the past.

Ha. Ha. Jokes on me.

I started with Maxx, since he's wilder than Barney, and hasn't ever been to the vet. I grabbed him while he was waiting for his breakfast, and tried to box him. He engaged his anti-kitty gravity device, and not only launched himself out of the box like some deranged greased bullet, he then hid.

In my house there are plenty of hiding places. So I started searching. He'd run right ahead of me from room to room. I'd chase him from one place, slam the door shut behind me, thinking I'd cut off more hiding places. Obbie joined the hunt, following me with the box. "Here Maxx! Kitty Kitty Kitty"
Yeah right.

Finally at 6:55, he made a fatal error. He backed himself into the corner of the kitchen, on the window sill. By this time, he was so crazed that he squeezed himself up in the window between the screen and the glass. Being the clever human I am, I used this opportunity to attempt to pry him out of the window. He came out all right. Five pounds of hissing, extended claw madness aimed right for my face. He nailed me square above the right eye. With surgical precision, he made a nice gash at the corner of my eye (another 1/8" inch, it would have been nothing but eye) and all I saw was blood. Since I'd been running thru the house for the last half hour, and it was rather warm and humid, I was a tad red faced and hot. Which made for a very dramatic show of blood. I left a lovely blood trail across the kitchen floor to the dishtowel. Which I promptly bled thru. Oh it was truly a lovely sight. Obbie came in to assist, and turned white when I turned around. He dashed out to his truck for his first aid kit (weak stomach and all, he's a certified Red Cross responder) Meanwhile, Maxx had gone. I went upstairs (holding the dishtowel to my face) and inspected the damage. Nothing like a whole lot of blood to make a small cut quite dramatic. I was happy I wasn't blind (Flash forward to the ER visit, "Yeah I was trying to take my cat to the vet to get neutered.....) and cleaned up the wound with peroxide and Bactine. Then went to change my shirt. (Sure wouldn't want to go to work looking like I'd just gotten a beating) I found Maxx under the dresser in my room, breathing really hard with his mouth open, completely terrified. So I left him alone. He didn't need stressed any further (and I didn't need to bleed any more) The trip to the vet for him can wait.

Barney had been following along with great interest. Now it was his turn in the box. He's been the to vet a couple times (remember the leg?) so he's old hat with the box routine. But he thought he'd fuck with me for sport. I chased him around the bedroom for another 10 minutes. Ha. Ha. He was laughing at me, I swear. So I grab him and stuff him, and call the vet. Explained my dilemma, she said bring him in anyway. So I did. He's home now. Neutered and dopey. Maxx has come out of hiding, but won't even look at me, and the other cats avert their eyes when I talk to them. I am such a MEAN MOM!! Oh well.

Work was just about as much fun as catching the cat. At least I could accomplish something. What, I'm not exactly sure, but the pile on the desk was smaller than it was when I got there. Something to be said for that.

And that, my friends, is why I'm going to the couch now. I had a rough, rough day, and frankly, I don't have the energy to sit upright. Gawd that sucked.

Oh, and send some positive energy and good thoughts to my Okie buddies Daven and Kid and their families. They're going thru some trying times right now and need all the good thoughts and positive vibes they can get. (Go visit via my side bar, I'm too farkin' lazy to link right now) My cat troubles aren't squat compared to what their families are dealing with.

Happy Fucking Monday.