Mitchell's Mustard Blog

March 4, 2017

Thermometer face

Filed under: My Work — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 1:42 pm

With Captain being a little poorly we had arranged his first ever visit to the vets, The idea of getting this brut into the carrier case made me nervous. So much so, I sat in the garden and smoked two cigarettes planning the execution of such task. He’s very much a mummy’s boy and with Mallory being at work this was down to me. I sold it to him as ‘the adventure of the two furry boys’ in which he just stared at me wondering why I wasn’t stroking his belly. I picked him up, the moment he clocked that we were heading closer to the carrier case all shit broke loose. Half his body was in, I was pushing against his backend to give him no room to escape. He knew he wasn’t going to win this fight but he also wasn’t going down without swinging. Once he was in, I placed him on the table. BB circled him, flitting her tail and tapping away on the table with her twinkle toes. She was either assessing the situation for a quick impromptu escape route or she was teasing him like a sibling would. All the food, cuddles, and toys are now hers. My money’s on the latter. As I left the house I was carrying the case in my arms instead of by the handle hoping that this would calm him, after a few minutes of clinging on claw deep into my wrist he finally calmed down and accepted his journey. When we had arrived at the vets waiting room he had buried himself in his blanket, only his little furry face was visible, his big scared kitten eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other watching all the other animals awaiting their fate. When his eyes met mine I could read his expression ‘Beardy, I don’t like you right now.’ After ignoring another of my reassuring pep talks we were called into the vet’s office. The vet enticed him out of the carrier case and cuddled him for a couple of moments, her pep talks seem to work better than mine. Placing him on a table she weighed him, listened to his heart, all the usual check up itinerary ticked off. There was just one thing left to do, I bent down to hold his eye contact and held his shoulders as instructed. His loving eyes staring into mine as he had finally forgiven me and realised there was nothing to fear. She then took his temperature. His smile disappeared, his eyes widened, a look of panic and confusion splashed across his face. ‘What? . . What are you doing? . . But why?’ All of his pride had just fallen off the table and rolled out of the room. ‘Beardy, I want to go home, now!’ His facial expression could not be mistaken. I didn’t even have an issue getting him back in the carrier case. By the time we made it home he’d had enough, he took his treat, swore at me in his language and slinked off to sleep for a couple of hours.

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