cat in the box

Many years ago I worked for a vet in Berkeley, California. The clinic was meant for at least four practitioners, but over the years the vet I worked for bought all of his partners out. To make it more interesting, he also had a clinic in Petaluma, which even without traffic, was a solid hour drive. He would spend the morning in the Petaluma clinic, drive to Berkeley and finish out the afternoon.

Thus, my day looked something like this:

9am: Arrive in office. Check voicemail. Clean up after boarded pets. Feed boarded pets.
10am-noon: Answer phones, sterilize equipment, make appointments, check in pets for procedures, and so on.
noon - 2pm: Unpaid lunch.
2pm-3:30pm: Prepare for arrival of vet: pull charts, make charts for new patients, prepare exam rooms, etc.
3:30 - 6:00pm: With vet, assist with surgeries, appointments and anything else that came up.

As you can see, I spent most of my day in this huge office by myself with a bunch of (sometimes crazy) animals. I have notes on some of things that happened in my summer there, but this one really sticks out. I was recently reminded of it because of something Secret Agent Josephine wrote.

This vet had one of the lowest cost for neutering/spaying cats and dogs. As you can imagine, we had lots of business from people that brought in feral cats to try and prevent kittens from taking over their property.

One morning while tending to the boarded pets, I heard the bell ring at the cat waiting area. I went to the window and found an older gentleman. He asked if we neutered feral cats. I told him with did and explained the cost.

He then asked if we had an opening that day. I informed him we did. He should bring the cat in as soon as possible to ensure that it doesn't eat or drink anything before to the procedure.

He tells me that he has the cat with him. I figure he means it is in his car. I can't see the entire waiting area, so don't see that he has a box by his feet.

Needless to say, I am more than a bit surprised when he presents a toilet seat box. Not a toilet box - a toilet seat box. He explains that the cat is in there, and that he is very, very mean.

This guy looks serious, and who am I not to believe him. He explains that he tried to catch the cat in a carrier, but the cat wanted nothing to do with it. During the chase it landed in that box, so he closed it up and came here.

I let him take the box to the back and put it in a cage. I told him he could come back after 5pm to pick up the cat. It then got busy, and I had lunch, and I forgot all about the cat in the toilet seat box in the cage in the back. Okay, maybe not so much forgot, but rather mentally blocked the fun that was waiting for me in the afternoon.

The vet came in and as he usually did, took a look at who was in for the day. He came to the front and asked me what was in the box. I told him a very mean feral cat. I saved it for him.

The vet, by the way, was a short Filipino man with a thick accent. He said let's start with that one and set off to get the falconer's gloves and the lid of a metal trash can for armor. I got nothing.

He then opened the box, and closed the cage. He poked at the box and out emerged a very very unhappy black feral cat. The cat proceeded to sit on top of the toilet seat box and went HISS! HISS! HISS! I am ready to flee the room at this point.

Instead I stayed, thinking how I don't get combat pay. Meanwhile my Gallo's laugh reflex sets in. When I am not laughing, I am screaming. The vet tells me to knock off the screaming as it isn't helping. Easier said than done. Has he not noticed the crazy mean black cat in the tiny room with us?!

After a few minutes, the vet manages to trap the cat under the lid of the garbage can and is ready to give it a shot to knock it out. He needs me to hold the lid while he does this. I am really not getting paid enough, but I agree.

The first shot doesn't even make this cat look sleepy, let alone knock it out. In fact, it is really pissed about what is going on, and lets us know it by hissing again. It is now back in the cage but not getting sleepy. It just keeps hissing, back arched, hair raised on end.

The doc decides we should do it again. This time with less screaming on my part. The second shot works and in a few minutes we begin the surgery. I am so glad when it is over. Thankfully they only take about five minutes on a male cat.

I can't remember, but I am pretty sure we stuck the cat back in the toilet seat box when he was done. The vet didn't want to have to charge the guy for a cardboard carrier. I guess that was nice of him.


on the night stand :: Frankenstein Makes A Sandwich

there are no figs in figgy pudding

Here we are just two days left in November and I feel so conflicted. I think part of it is just having everything up in the air regarding the holidays makes me edgy. Having plans and being able to make a to do list would keep me busy and out of trouble. But of course I know it goes deeper than that.

Here are things in a nutshell: B's sister sent him an email suggesting she spend the holiday in LA (she has a husband and two children under 3). B was a bit surprised, and my initial reaction wasn't much better. B replied back trying to dissuade her, believing that if she came, his parents would also join them. His concern was more how I would react to being together under the same roof. And unfortunately I share his concern.

So last night, we talked about it AGAIN. Keep in mind, we still have no answers from anyone, AND our initial thought about the holidays was to go away as Thanksgiving kind of sucked donkeys. The bottom line is that I asked him if my issues were taken out of the equation, how much would he want his entire family (his other sister would also likely join in on the festivities) to spend the holidays with him. His response: "a six or a seven". That's out of TEN, by the way.

That's pretty high. I didn't expect a 10. I was hoping for a 2, but I figured maybe a 5. B loves his family, but he also has issues with them.

So now the big question. Do I try and push for this to happen? There aren't too many Christmas holidays that this would work out? Or do I push for us to make plans to go out of town?

I should step back here and talk about my concerns about being under one roof for the holidays. Me and B's family are like oil and vinegar. We just don't like each other. In my defense, I think a lot of this has to do with the fact that we don't really know each other. Some of it has to do with the fact that B tried (and succeeded) in separating us. Another part has to do with obligation, and how his parents feel none towards me. And another part has to do with a theory that a friend of mine has that when you meet your potential in-laws at a young age, they always see you at that age (or at least it is a very difficult thing to overcome).

The first meeting of B's parents was memorable, although to this day, I don't think they realize what happened. I will repeat this story, but long time readers can skip if they like. Here is how things went down:

B and I had been living together. His parents didn't know it, and he was going to make sure they didn't find out. So as his graduation approached, I found a sublet and moved my stuff there, although I didn't start spending the night there until they came (and eventually kidnapped him).

B and I knew they would start their trip to the US in Los Angeles, but they wouldn't give him a date as to when they were visiting him in Berkeley. We had gone out shopping (it was a weekend afternoon) and returned to B's apartment to find a message on the answering machine from his parents. They were at Harris Ranch (the midpoint on the 5 between LA and SF), and planned to be in town in a few hours. According to the time stamp, that would be any minute, and so I panicked. I was certainly not dressed or in any way ready to meet these people.

Soon thereafter, there was a buzz on the intercom. Holy crap - they are here! No way!

Thankfully we were on the fifth (top) floor of the apartment, in the back. B didn't have a car. So there was no way to tell if he was home. I said we should just wait it out and they will go away. Ha! You won't believe what happened next, but I assure you this is true:

When the buzzing stopped, I breathed a sigh of relief. Then a few minutes later, the phone started ringing. I thought if we didn't answer it, they would get that B was not home. I figured they would leave a message with their plan and I could go shower and change (at my apartment).

Apparently this is not how these people worked. Now not only was the phone ringing, there was now knocking on the door! Simultaneously!! The building wasn't very secure, so clearly one of our lovely neighbors had let them in.

The ringing, buzzing and knocking, simply wasn't going to stop. These people weren't going to go away. So I did the only thing I could - I HID IN THE CLOSET.

This whole thing probably lasted about 15 minutes, but it felt like an eternity. B eventually did answer the door. He said he had been taking a nap. Oy!

The good news is he got rid of his parents quickly. He lived in a tiny studio apartment with no real furniture to speak of, so it wasn't like he could invite them in and chit chat. It still doesn't make sense to me why they didn't just leave a message, or better yet call from the hotel and make plans to meet for dinner.

Honestly, I never saw anything like this. Who treats their son like this? This was a behavior of a scorned lover, not ones parents visiting from out of town with no itinerary. The banging on door while the other is downstairs calling from a pay phone on the corner was kicking things up. I almost never wanted to come out of the closet. Who were these people?!

But this was my first impression of them, and it has been a hard one to break. I don't think that they have changed much. They are still about control. They don't act like adults. They don't respect their children. They still don't tell us when they are coming to visit until the very last second and then more than likely change their plans anyway.

So while I know what I am up against, I need to decide what I am willing to do this Christmas. I don't want B to miss out on an opportunity to spend with his family. Part of me knows that I will be missing mine again this season, and certainly wouldn't wish that on anyone. At the same time, I am not sure how I wouldn't be miserable while they are around.

I wish I knew the answer. Of course, they could make it easy and make other plans. I just want to know what we are doing so I can move forward.

on the night stand :: 2008 Moleskin Large Red Daily Planner- Limited Edition