I've been sick for the last couple days; I can't keep my Fancy Feasts down. I've been keeping the big-cats up all night with my constant retching.
While that isn't funny, if I wasn't so nauseous, I would be laughing at the big-cats as they chase after me at 4 a.m.; trying to catch my vomit in a bright yellow Frisbee so that they don't have to wash the sheets or the rug again.
Since I'm not getting better, I had to go to the vet again today. It started off okay, I came out of my cage and sat on the examination table without hissing or growling (much) at the vet; but frankly, I just didn't have the energy.
But after a little while of squeezing and pressing and touching, the vet decided that I needed some more tests done. She took me in the back room, sent my Big-Cat away, and then pulled out the needle! I told her in no uncertain terms that the needle was not a good idea. We had a bit of a stand off before I was jumped from behind by someone else in scrubs. That's when I lost it.
I started screaming and yelling and hissing...so much that the vet and her assistant got a little scared and backed off for a minute. I thought I was safe but I was jumped by another scrub wearer (no wait, it was ten more scrub wearers...all of them really big) who wrestled me to the ground and...well they wrestled me to the ground and cut my nails. All of them.
After that, deprived of my main weapons, I lost the stomach for a physical fight with them...but I still let them have in with my mouth. I said such things to them my Big-Cat told me that the clinic's deaf 17 year old cat Felix looked up in shock at what he was hearing.
They ended up taking a blood and urine sample and gave me a shot of cat-gravol. Then I was put back in my cage where my Big-Cat had added a new catnip mousey...and then he sprung me from the clinic.
After getting home, I got some good petting, a brushing, and a Fancy Feast.
Tomorrow the tests come back and if I have to go back to the clinic, I'll be ready this time.