Once a year we have to scoop my special friend, Sweetie up put her into rather a small white cage and travel along a very rough road to our nearest vet, 30 minutes away to be immunised. Every year we dread it. Sweetie my cat hates going in the car and makes the most pitiful noises for the full duration of the journey. It’s always at the halfway mark, the landmark  being a Monastery that her bowels open. The poor thing is basically scared  shitless! I suggested to Matthew that I drive this time and he sits with the cage on his knee. We also discuss not giving her food before we leave and keep her indoors until our departure. Of course all this is forgotten and by time we are ready to leave we realise not only has she been fed but she is no where to be found as she has made her way out into the garden. We put off our trip until she decides to come back into the house at which stage both Matthew and I have gone off the whole idea. We pack a plastic bag, paper towel and line the bottom of  her cage with newspaper, as we head off the crying begins. Matthew is anticipating her next movement, so to speak and sure enough just as we approach the Monastery the inevitable happens. The smell is disgusting and Matthew starts cursing the poor cat asking it why can’t it be like Micraki. I defend poor Sweetie saying she can’t help it and its pointless asking her to behave like another cat. She is just scared. I also ask the question, what if we had have had children, this would have happened more than once a year! He removes Sweetie from the cage and tries to clean up, I keep driving. Another horrid smell, Matthew looks down to find himself covered in shit, not impressed. Matthew stays in the car for obvious reasons while I take my beloved Sweetie still crying into the vet. Sweetie is fine she makes no fuss when injected and the vet is impressed by her perfect behaviour. I am told she has love handles, something I am familiar with myself and a diet is suggested. Well that’s it then for another year!

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