Today was the dreaded visit to the vet. If you have a pet, then you know what I mean. The annual exam is one of those things that have to be done, but nobody likes it. Buffy and Spike enjoy going to the vet about as much as I enjoy a visit to the dentist. I think if our furry family members knew why they were going, it wouldn’t be so bad, but of course they’re clueless.
First we had to catch them and get them into the cat carriers. I distracted them while the DH pounced and grabbed. Once they were trapped, the crying started—and lasted all the way to the office.
At last we were in the exam room and I could let them out of the carriers. When the doctor walked in, they’d already inspected every inch of the room. I have an awesome vet. He immediately got down to their level, sat on the floor and let them come over for a cuddle. And at the same time he was checking them over and asking us questions. Then it was time to get their shots and their nails trimmed. Doc said they’re doing great. It’s hard to believe they’ll be ten years old in February. They still play and act like kittens. It’s worth a little stress to keep them healthy, but whew, I’m so glad it’s over.