cats: the dreaded annual vet visit
Jun. 24th, 2025 06:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)

[Major Tom, a big grey tabby wearing a purple harness, is laying at his ease on the examination table at the vet’s office. A section of pale belly fur is visible, and one of his hindpaws is pointed almost directly at the camera.]
… well. Tom doesn’t dread it. Tom flops on the exam table, gets immediately bored, explores the countertops, weighs himself (with only a moment’s assistance from me in turning on the scale), has another flop, perks up when the vet crew comes in, & demands a lot of love from everyone in range while I explain cooperative care & note that it’s polite to ask first before you manhandle someone, even if that someone is a cat.

[Tom’s on the exam table again, but this time he’s in a perfect meatloaf. His ears are slightly perked, and his whiskers are relaxed.]
“He’s not stress-purring, is he,” notes the vet. “Nope,” I reply, “he’s just purring. You’re petting him, of course he’s purring.”
Tom _does_ love a love.

[Tom’s in the same spot; that’s my hand, there, reaching up from the bottom of the photo to gently scritch his cheek.]
Loiosh … Loiosh dreads the vet.

[Loiosh is hunkered down in the stroller, ears down, tail slightly poofed.]
I’m not entirely sure when he got this bad about it; he was fine at the vet visit where we talked about getting his teeth cleaned. (Partway through the chat, the vet looked over my shoulder at Loiosh, Tom, & Hades, all of whom were curled up napping on the bench behind me: “How. How do you do this.” I shrugged; I just get lucky I guess?) It might’ve been the teeth thing itself, come to think of it; I really need to start bringing him to the vet when he doesn’t need any treatment at all, so he can get used to vet visits that don’t involve getting stabbed again. Of course, the stabbing happens monthly these days, which makes it harder to schedule further visits on top of that …
… might need to apply some churu to the situation.

[Loiosh is looking off to the left; my hand emerges from the bottom of the photo, again, to scratch his cheek. He looks slightly less entirely unhappy.]
Applying some love to the situation never makes things worse, either.

[Loiosh has turned his head so my hand is under his chin. His ears are still unhappy but his whiskers are starting to perk forward a bit.]
… might take a whole LOT of love.
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