Thursday, March 12, 2015

RABIES, ANYONE?



Have you ever lived with a cat in heat? I've lived with a relentlessly squawking Senegal parrot. I've lived with neurotic dogs and psychotic lovers. Nothing is worse than a cat in heat. 

My cat Scruffy will be a year old in less than two weeks. I should have had her spayed long ago. I'm paying dearly for my procrastination. She'd only been in heat for a week and I was already reduced to tears from her annoying antics. Meee-owing. Whining. Howling. Rolling around on the floor. It was like watching Eleonora Duse doing the death scene from Cleopatra.

I considered hiring a feline hit man, but I don't yet have very many underground connections in Tennessee. 

On Monday morning I made an appointment with the vet. Not for me. For Scruffy. I had to drive her to town yesterday afternoon. It was misty with rain and the fog was so heavy that it looked like the Hebrides. As I maneuvered the twisting, narrow mountain roads Scruffy howled at the top of her lungs. To say that my nerves were shattered is an understatement.  I did everything to restrain myself from doing a swan dive over a cliff - - a Thelma and Louise.

Fast forward. In the vet's office.

I knew I was in trouble when I saw the woman at the desk. She was utterly humorless. With a face like Marie Dressler and glasses around her neck on a chain.

"Name, sex, and birth date," she demanded.

Did she mean me or the cat?
I'll give her my name. She can probably guess my sex. But in order to get my age, she'll have to fight me at Madison Square Garden.

She meant the cat, Jon.

"What is the color?" she wants to know.

Color?? Scruffy's color is hard to describe. Sort of like a cross between a dirty dishrag and the bottom of a 100-year-old terra cotta planter.

While I'm stammering for an answer, somebody in the waiting room shouts "Calico!"

"Well, her mother was a calico," I admit.

"Did you have your rabies shot?" the woman at the desk asked.
I swear I'm not making this up. They were her exact words.

Rabies?!? To my knowledge, I've never had rabies. Or a shot. I go through a quick mental rundown of all my previous maladies.

Let's see, I've had: chicken pox, German measles, scarlet fever, the croup, pneumonia, pericarditis, sinusitis, the clap. I've had chiggers, strep throats that rendered me speechless, and anxiety attacks that would have baffled Freud.

She means the cat, Jon. Rabies shots for the cat.

"Oh, yea. All my cats had rabies shots," I tell her.

"Well, bring all the documentation with you next time you come in. I need to see written proof."

Holy shit. I'm here to get a cat spayed. I'm not here to sign the Treaty of Versailles.

It's presently Thursday morning as I write this. I have to drive into town to pick Scruffy up at 2:00 pm. I'm armed with the rabies documents. And reinforced with several cans of beer.

 I'm praying that the woman behind the desk with the glasses on a chain will be out to lunch when I get there. She scares me. I have a feeling she'd neuter me if she had half the chance.

Update:
I picked Scruffy up this afternoon. The Marie Dressler lady wasn't there so I didn't need to show the rabies documents (but I brought them nevertheless). Scruffy is now home resting comfortably. She's not allowed to eat until tomorrow.
I'm resting comfortably, too. And I'm going to eat dinner in a few minutes.


19 comments:

  1. Jon,
    I hope you do have the documentation for Scruffy's rabies shots. I rescued an adolescent kitten once for a heavily traveled intersection at a hotel where I used to work in Pennsylvania. I gave her to my co-worker Betsy for her little girl. A week later I asked Betsy "How's the cat?" She said "Oh, she scratched me so I had her tested for rabies." Of course you know what testing for rabies means don't you? They cut the cat's head off. The cat didn't have rabies. Nice Betsy. That was the end of our relationship (the fat pig) and I eventually quite the hotel because I didn't want to ever work again with such a heartless bitch.
    I hope all goes well with Scruffy.
    Ron

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    1. What a horrible story, Ron. I don't blame you for not wanting to work with such a rotten person.
      Scruffy is doing fine, thank goodness. I think you and Scruffy had surgery on the same day - but yours was far worse!

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    2. How is Scruffy doing now Jon? Mad at you?😳
      Ron

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    3. Ron, she's doing fine so far. She'll probably be mad next week when she feels better.....

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    4. Jon,
      Oh for sure she will be mightily pissed at you for preventing her from bringing more kittens into the world but that's the last thing you need, more stray cats. I just hope no one (I'm thinking your cousin) puts out the word that you take in homeless cats. Doesn't take long for that word to spread no matter what area of the country you live in.
      Ron

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  2. I'm laughing and crying with you. The receptionist sounds like one of my elementary school teachers. The type you do not want to mess with. I sympathize with you and poor Scruffy. Been there. Done that. Scratching that itch is an impossible dream and dealing with the consequences a real pain. Hope when she's fixed, peace and quiet will resume to your Tennessee abode.

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    Replies
    1. The receptionist was intimidating. I'm glad she wasn't there when I picked Scruffy up today.

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  3. I needed the laugh at this point in a long week. If you told her your age, she would probably not write that down for the cat's age.

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    Replies
    1. Believe me, I needed the laugh, too. Humor is the only thing that keeps me going.

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  4. Oh yeah having been a cat lover all my life that is the part not to love. We used to have a male and a female Siamese and we wanted the kittens. Sometime I put the female in the play house out back.

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    1. I was just about ready to turn Scruffy loose in the forest.......

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  5. I just checked the site for most popular girl names in 2015 and, once again, "Scruffy" did not make it into the top 100. This is bound to set her back socially and romantically. Perhaps it's best you got her neutered.

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    1. Geo, believe it or not, when Scruffy was a kitten I thought she was a male. When I moved to Tennessee my cousin said "Scruffy's not a boy. She's a girl."
      Heck, what do I know? I was always sexually confused........

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  6. Scruffy would probably bite me for laughing ... but I can't help it. That ... that lady (?) has no business working in a vet's office. Like peds, isn't their staff supposed to be warm and sympathetic? Silly me, that's Hollywood.
    Glad to know Scruffy's on the mend and the rest of you can get some sleep!

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    Replies
    1. I'm beginning to think that "warm and sympathetic" is a thing of the past.
      I think I'll be able to sleep without ear plugs tonight.

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  7. Poor Scruffy. Poor you, too. I haven't had the "pleasure" of having a cat in heat around the house, but it doesn't sound like much fun. Hopefully, you'll both recover from your trauma real soon.

    Happy weekend!

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  8. Apparently the comment I just wrote has disappeared into the ethernet. I guess the powers that be decided it wasn't worth reading.
    Check out Mr. Selfridge on PBS. Season 3 starts in April. 1 & 2 are available on DVD. Approximately same era as Downton with lots of drama and characters you love or hate.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks ms martyr! I was looking for my next ""Downton Abby" fix. I love these multi character stories set in that era. Can't get enough. By the way, I also loved "The Wire" which is about as different from "Downton Abby" in setting as you can get but still get human drama.
      Ron

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    2. I always watch Mr. Selfridge and can't wait for Season 3.

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I love comments. Go ahead and leave one - I won't bite. But make sure you have a rabies shot just in case.