Up front: Sometimes, prepping for a vet visit is just like herding cats

It takes a brave person to book a veterinarian appointment for a cat.

First, there’s the challenge of getting the kitty into the crate to transport her to the vet’s office. My cats, Mango, Mickey and Jelly Bean, know the minute they see that crate come into the house that something’s up. To them, that crate is like the solitary confinement cell in the Idaho County Jail. A place where good kitties go and sometimes never return.

I call them and they don’t come. Which, of course, is nothing new since they don’t come when I call any other time, either.

So I have to go through the house and hunt them down. I am a 70-year-old woman in fairly good shape but they are slinky jungle creatures who can squeeze into tight corners and nooks and crannies where only a contortionist could fit. They run; I lunge and crash into the sofa. It’s then I know that, fairly good shape or not, my reflexes aren’t what they used to be.

I can’t catch them so I resort to bribery. This sometimes works, depending on how well I can camouflage my true intent. I open a can of cat food, what I call “canned mouse meat” and say, “Dinner! Come and get it.”

The cats will peek around the corner and if the crate is nowhere in sight they will cautiously creep forward, mistaking the kindly smile on my face as benevolent good will.

I have to be fast. Once they’re in range to eat the canned mouse meat I must grab fast and I’d better get all three of them at the same time because if I don’t, the ones that got away will dash off in the other direction screaming, “It’s a trap! Go back!”

It is a major ordeal, capturing all three and putting them in their crates, and I am almost too exhausted afterward to actually drive to the vet’s office.

But if I was a little tired after corralling them, the drive over surely would wake me up as all three cats scream and yowl and complain without stopping. If there was such a thing as Child Protective Services for cats I’m sure I’d be in big trouble just from the racket.

The funny thing is, all three cats are very tame and friendly and loving to me the rest of the time. I love cats (and dogs) and treat them all very well, even though I get the distinct sense that, with cats, the affection is purely transactional. I provide them with food and shelter and they will let me stroke their fur. I’ve read that petting cats relieves stress, so I guess it’s a good bargain.

Except when you have to take them to the vet to get their shots. Then all bets are off and a pet cat would sooner shred your face than submit to the indignity of a physical check-up.

At last the ordeal is over. The vet checks them over, gives them their vaccinations and declares that they’re all three in fine shape and don’t need to be seen again for another year.

Good, because I need that much time to rest up.

Hedberg may be contacted at khedberg@lmtribune.com.