Rascal

Rascal's physical was overdue. The last time our cat had seen the vet was almost twenty months ago.  He had received his last rabies vaccine in 2008.

All his life, he had been tended at the Seymour clinic but that is closed now, a victim of the bad economy. The Pulaski Veterinary Clinic is the closest so that was where we were headed.  I located Rascal's records and plucked a stool sample out of his cat box.

We hid the cat carrier until the moment we left, and dropped him in.  The wailing began.  Rascal is half Siamese and that is the language he yowls in.  Pulaski is half an hour away and he yowled all the way.  It got on our nerves, but Gary thought it would be better on the way home.

The staff at the clinic were efficient.  They checked him over thoroughly.  He had lost a half a pound since his last examination, he had some ear wax, and his teeth are wearing down, but he is 18 - 1/2 years old.  For a senior citizen, he is remarkably healthy. In spite of his time hunting in the back yard, he has no parasites. He took his shots well and even did fine when the staff took a blood sample.

When we were done, Gary said that Rascal would make less noise if he could ride in the back of the van, not in the cat carrier.  He opened the side door, put Rascal inside, but in a flash the cat escaped and hid under the van.

It is a big van and though we knelt down on the damp pavement, we couldn't reach him and he refused to come out.  Finally, Gary called out "turkey, turkey".  Rascal doesn't answer to much, but he loves turkey.  He crawled out and was carefully placed in the van where he could wander around...yowling...for the half hour drive.

When we got home, he hid from us until Gary got some turkey cold cuts.  With that, he forgave us.  He soon was napping on my lap until Gary finally sat down, then he moved over.

It was worth the trip to the vet to find out Rascal is healthy, but he still is an old dude with arthritis setting in, matching me in aches and pains.

This morning, before the Ordeal, he was ensconced in the cat bed where he can look through the glass door to observe his backyard domain.  Sgt. Snuggles, the orange and white cat from next door came by.  In other years, Rascal would have been through the cat door in a flash to chase away the intruder.  This time, he snarled and hissed but he never even got to his feet.

There are not too many years ahead for him.