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Mr. Bitey and the Vet

Bernard the Cat (also known as Mr. Bitey) needed to go to the vet eventually for vaccine updates.  But earlier this week, he started showing signs of distress and he was licking under his tail.  I had to clean there, in fact, and he didn't like that at all.  I called the vet for an appointment.  They had one the next day, but after I hung up, Bernard started making pain noises, so I called back to see if they had anything today.  They squeezed him in.

This was the same vet we adopted Bernard from when he was an adolescent, by the way.

I zipped Bernard into the carrier--he didn't like that either--and we were off.

A word about Bernard's personality: Bernard has always been a biter and a clawer.  If you pet him, he'll let you.  He'll even roll over on his back for tummy rubs or start to lick you. But as General Akbar would say, "It's a trap."  He's not licking you, he's tasting you.  Eventually--CHOMP!  Or he'll go at you with his back claws.  It's semi-playful, and he gnaws more than he bites, but it's still no fun on the receiving end.  He's aggressive and touchy, which is why we often call him Mr. Bitey.

Anyway, we arrived at the vet and were put into an examination room.  I let Bernard out, and he cautiously sniffed about.  In moments he changed from Mr. Bitey to Mr. Lovey.  He rubbed against me, against the furniture, against the walls.  He was purring louder than a motorcycle.  He LOVED the vet's office!

It was clear he remembered the place.  This was his kittenhood home.  He adored everything.  He loved the vet.  He loved the examination.  He loved the shots.  He loved me.  He loved it all!  I swear he was on catnip.  I'd never seen him like this.  I was half tempted to ask the vet if they wanted to keep him.

The only bad moment came when he was back in his carrier and I was waiting at the front counter to pay.  A door opened and out bounded a big, dumb dog.  "Hello!  I am a big, dumb dog, and I love everyone!  Do you love me?"  Bernard, who has no experience with dogs, folded himself into a little black hole inside the carrier.  I put him on top of the counter, but Bernard wasn't having any of it.  It was a Schroedinger moment--there was simultaneously a cat and no cat inside the case.

Ultimately, the vet's recommendation was to change his food.  She said he wasn't in any danger.

I had a bad moment the next morning, though.  We always put the cats in the basement at night, and when I opened the door to let them up, only Dinah popped out.  I went down to look for Bernard and found him under a table, just lying there.  For an awful moment I thought he was dead.  But he wasn't.  He was just . . . lying there.  I picked him up and put him on his feet, and he strolled calmly upstairs.

Maybe the visit to his old home calmed him down?  I don't know.

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( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
ecosopher
Jul. 9th, 2016 01:38 pm (UTC)
We have a Mr Bitey too... who also turns into Mr Lovey on occasion, but only when he feels like it, and definitely only ever on his terms (which are subject to change without notice)! Glad to hear he was fine the next day, and I hope his discomfort was a one-off.
spiziks
Jul. 10th, 2016 03:04 am (UTC)
He's much better now. But still a Mr. Bitey.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

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