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Oh, the joys of working in vet hospitals. The cute puppies, the cute kitties. Had a customer comment to me today, "You must love your job, being around animals all day." I laughed and related to him what happened yesterday.
Yesterday I walked into the lobby to see a grey cat clinging to a man's leg while he hopped around screaming "Get it off! Get it off!" As I watched in befuddlement, the cat shimmied up his leg, tearing his paints with its sharp claws, rowrling and hissing and spitting.
For a moment I worried about rabies. Then my spatial awareness kicked in, and I realized that a black lab was trying to lunge for the cat and man, and was barking up a storm. Don't know why I didn't notice that first. The cat was none too happy about the big mean dog, and was trying to climb the man to escape. Besides the dog's owner, the other two customers in the lobby, a middle aged couple with a cat carrier, merely stared on with blank expressions.
Anyway, me and two vets that magically popped out of nowhere (they're really talented at that) tackled the man with the cat limpet and pried it off him. My part was holding the man still for them to get at it, because he was wriggling all over the place.
Now, normally two vets are more than enough to handle a cat. They're specially trained in all the appropriate management techniques, and have years of experience handling angry, annoyed felines. But this was an Ebil Kat, a furious messenger of Bastet. This thing could twist and contort to sink its claws wherever it pleased, and it pleased to sink them everywhere. Within seconds both vets were bleeding and struggling to keep Ebil Kat from getting loose. But loose it got, and it leapt with magnificent grace and power, straight for the face of Bleeding Leg Man.
This isn't going to be pretty, I thought.
And it wasn't. It clung to his hair and ears with furious determination, screaming defiance at the world. Again I held the man, and again the vets pried it off him. Now he was Bleeding Leg and Face Man.
As the vets finally got the thing under control, and dragged it off to the back so they could throw it in a cage, I stayed and found out what happened. It seems the cat belonged to the apathetic middle aged couple. Bleeding Man was furious, and hollered at them for many a minute, cussing and spitting and stomping back and forth (which caused considerable trouble for the magical reappearing vet that was trying to put antiseptic on his cuts). How dare they keep such a horrible feline! How dare they attack him with it! He'll sue! He'll sue them, he'll sue the hospital, he'll just plain sue! They suck! He's bleeding! They suck!
I tried to get his attention for awhile, and finally waited until he ran out of breath, and asked the owner of the dog what happened. The cashier confirms this:
Middle aged couple have cat in carrier, locked tight. They sign in and sit patiently. Ebil Kat is none too happy about being in carrier, but he is safely imprisoned where he can harm none. He rowrls, he whines, but the couple do not release their captive.
Suddenly, in comes Pre-Bleeding Man. He is picking up his own dog from boarding. He sees cute black lab. Aww. He pets cute black lab. Dog's owner thinks him rude for not asking permission first, but black lab is a big lovable sweetie. He sees cat in carrier. Aww. He bends down to wave hello to cute cat in carrier. He OPENS CARRIER to pet cute hissing cat.
The moral of the story is: Ask. Permission. First.
Oh, the joys of working in vet hospitals. The cute puppies, the cute kitties. Had a customer comment to me today, "You must love your job, being around animals all day." I laughed and related to him what happened yesterday.
Yesterday I walked into the lobby to see a grey cat clinging to a man's leg while he hopped around screaming "Get it off! Get it off!" As I watched in befuddlement, the cat shimmied up his leg, tearing his paints with its sharp claws, rowrling and hissing and spitting.
For a moment I worried about rabies. Then my spatial awareness kicked in, and I realized that a black lab was trying to lunge for the cat and man, and was barking up a storm. Don't know why I didn't notice that first. The cat was none too happy about the big mean dog, and was trying to climb the man to escape. Besides the dog's owner, the other two customers in the lobby, a middle aged couple with a cat carrier, merely stared on with blank expressions.
Anyway, me and two vets that magically popped out of nowhere (they're really talented at that) tackled the man with the cat limpet and pried it off him. My part was holding the man still for them to get at it, because he was wriggling all over the place.
Now, normally two vets are more than enough to handle a cat. They're specially trained in all the appropriate management techniques, and have years of experience handling angry, annoyed felines. But this was an Ebil Kat, a furious messenger of Bastet. This thing could twist and contort to sink its claws wherever it pleased, and it pleased to sink them everywhere. Within seconds both vets were bleeding and struggling to keep Ebil Kat from getting loose. But loose it got, and it leapt with magnificent grace and power, straight for the face of Bleeding Leg Man.
This isn't going to be pretty, I thought.
And it wasn't. It clung to his hair and ears with furious determination, screaming defiance at the world. Again I held the man, and again the vets pried it off him. Now he was Bleeding Leg and Face Man.
As the vets finally got the thing under control, and dragged it off to the back so they could throw it in a cage, I stayed and found out what happened. It seems the cat belonged to the apathetic middle aged couple. Bleeding Man was furious, and hollered at them for many a minute, cussing and spitting and stomping back and forth (which caused considerable trouble for the magical reappearing vet that was trying to put antiseptic on his cuts). How dare they keep such a horrible feline! How dare they attack him with it! He'll sue! He'll sue them, he'll sue the hospital, he'll just plain sue! They suck! He's bleeding! They suck!
I tried to get his attention for awhile, and finally waited until he ran out of breath, and asked the owner of the dog what happened. The cashier confirms this:
Middle aged couple have cat in carrier, locked tight. They sign in and sit patiently. Ebil Kat is none too happy about being in carrier, but he is safely imprisoned where he can harm none. He rowrls, he whines, but the couple do not release their captive.
Suddenly, in comes Pre-Bleeding Man. He is picking up his own dog from boarding. He sees cute black lab. Aww. He pets cute black lab. Dog's owner thinks him rude for not asking permission first, but black lab is a big lovable sweetie. He sees cat in carrier. Aww. He bends down to wave hello to cute cat in carrier. He OPENS CARRIER to pet cute hissing cat.
The moral of the story is: Ask. Permission. First.
Man, that was AWESOME. I was laughing aloud, reading that. Especially at the point where you narrate how Bleeding Leg Man becomes Bleeding Leg and Face Man. 
but isn't Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! a movie title? I'll just crawl away now.
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