Did I just say that?!

This was pulled off an old blog I had back in the day. The original date was September, 2006. Enjoy!!

Today was vet day here in Enterprise. Meaning it was time for Oz, the cat, and Joe, the pup, to get their annual shots and my bank account to take a huge hit. But, being a responsible pet owner, I sucked it up. Plus, Ozzy was starting to sport dreadlocks on his hindquarters and back, and I was wondering whether it was just a phase he was going through or if he had some actual health issues. Either way, I knew this was bad for him (AND me) because he was probably coming back shaved. For those of you who don't know my cat, he loves his hair. He is so particular about it. Jen and I discussed the shaved cat issue and even she agreed he was going to be PISSED at me. Needless to say, I was very nervous about the visit. But, off we went.

As with any clinic, there was the usual forty minute wait. Very peculiar to me considering I was the only one there. Whatever. Finally, the vet tech calls for us. She knows us. I have a very accident prone min pin. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm putting this girl through college. But anyways, we all go into the tiny exam room. Joey is jumping around like her usual ADD self. She has no idea what's in store. Oz knows better and has made himself very small "hiding" in the corner. Joe goes first. She gets three shots in the exact same spot (OUCH!), and she starts crying. Then she gets the stick up the butt. Insult to injury.

Oz's turn. I point out the obvious new hair-do. The vet asks me all types of questions about his eating, sleeping, and poo habits. I tell him "it's all good." Then, I go into how I've been out-of-town for two months, and I just noticed the change. The vet now has the answer. My cat is depressed. Seems he has stopped bathing because he's upset with me for being gone so long, and this is the cause of the dreads. I then wait to hear the inevitable "we have to shave him." But, instead the vet tells me they are going to bathe and brush him. If he gets through the week dread-free, we are in good shape. If not, I get to bring him back and pay for a series of blood tests. Yea. So, I wish him good luck with the bath challenge, and then I'm escorted out so I can pay for the vet techs fall semester. FYI: the itemized list says a cat bath is $16.50. WELL WORTH IT! I've wrestled with a cat in a bath before, and I didn't win.

I leave the clinic with Joe in tow. I then sit out on my back porch wondering what my poor cat is going through at that exact moment. I'm waiting for the call saying it's not worth it, and they have decided to just shave him. I don't get that call, and three hours later I call to check on him. They tell me he is in the back of his cage. His top is dry, but because he's all huddled up, his bottom is still wet, and I should give it thirty more minutes before I pick him up. Ok. I wait it out, and leave my house an hour later. I'm late to everything.

I pull up to the clinic, leave my car running, and head in. It's 6:00pm. The staff is cleaning up and all of the patients are gone. I ask for my cat. One of the girls heads to the back to get him. She's gone for awhile. Hmm. Then, the receptionist tells me she can't find my file. No biggie. I sit down and watch some video about fleas. Finally, another woman calls my name. I head to the front and she tells me the clinic has accidentally sent my cat home with another woman. WHA??!! I stood there shocked. A million things rushed through my head. "Am I going to get him back? Am I a bad mother and you've decided he is better off with her? Is he freaking out? Does he think I did this to him?" I've seen that part in movies where the daycare or whomever has switched the babies by accident, and I was starting to understand how those parents must have felt at the time they were told! It was horrible! They told me he had been in a cage next to another fluffy black cat and there was this new girl who, during the "vet clinic rush hour" (3-4pm), confused the two. When they realized the mistake, the vet had called the "new mom" and told her she had my cat and he was coming to get him. The woman hadn't even taken him out of the carrier yet, so she didn't even know she had the wrong cat! Who does that?! Who doesn't peek into the carrier to reassure their cat that they have indeed come back to get them and say in a concerned parent voice, "it's okay, I'm taking you home now. It's going to be alright?" Who doesn't look?! Whatever. I get my wits about me and after being reassured that he was coming back to me, I sit down and wait for his return. The receptionist continues to tell me how sorry they are.

The initial shock wears off, and I start to see the humor in the situation and make a round of phone calls to various people that would also see the humor of this happening to me and Ozzy. Especially Ozzy. He's just a funny cat, and this type of thing was just bound to happen to him. Poor guy.

Some time went by and the vet finally comes through the front door with a tiny carrier. At first I didn't think it was my cat in there considering how small the carrier was and how large my cat is. But, when I heard his cry I knew it was him. They had my cat stuffed in there! Good lord. The vet apologizes for the "incident" and tells me he is taking Ozzy in the back to run the blow dryer over him again and give him another brushing 'cause he's all tangled. Well, no kidding! He's all squished up in that crate ! I'm sure it did ruffle his fur! GAH! Before I could even object (I was just glad he was back), the vet whisked him away.

About ten minutes later, he puts my cat safely in my arms. The vet and about four other staff members were all standing around telling me again how it all happened and how sorry they all were. I was tired and only then realized my car was still running!! I hurriedly told them it was ok and to not worry about all of it. As I'm walking out the door I thanked them for the blow job. YES! I said BLOW JOB! AHHHH!!!  I immediately realized my error and said "I meant blow DRY!!"  Did this really just happen to me?  Doesn't this stuff only come out of Jessica Simpson's mouth?!  Freaking A!! Talk about embarrassing! To top it off, the vet replied "yeah, we don't do that here!" Funny man. They all laughed and I assume I sent them home with a great story. Not only was the original story good enough for dinner conversation, but I went and topped it off by thanking them for a blow job!

AND, I have to see them again next week for Ozzy's follow-up.  I don't need other people to humiliate me.  I can do it fine ALL BY MYSELF! 

Dedicated to my dear cat who was everything to me. I love you so much and miss you terribly.