Another Annual Trauma

Well, we had our annual vet visit today.

Banner and Balboa are both 6 years old now, which makes them 42 in human years according to the cat age chart on Chewy. You’d think by now this would be routine. Well, Banner is okay with it, but not our little black diva, Balboa.

I administered the 2 ml dose of Gabapentin two hours before the vet arrived. I switched to a mobile vet years ago to avoid stressing out the little creatures and, truth be told, myself. Balboa destroys pet carriers and would never tolerate sitting in a waiting room at a vet’s office.

Our mobile vet is awesome. I highly recommend Ross Veterinary House Calls. Dr. Ross has all the patience in the world, and believe me, she needs it with Balboa.

Meet The Drama Queen

Last year, 2 ml was the right dosage. Balboa was mildly stressed but still survived the trauma of getting weighed, poked and prodded, having his teeth checked, getting his shots, and suffering the final indignity of a nail trim.

This year was a different story.

He’s put on a little weight, so we may need to increase his dosage next year.

I gave him his medicine, and while he wasn’t a happy camper, he calmed down fairly quickly. When Dr. Ross arrived, he was asleep on my bed, so I picked him up and confined him to the bathroom. Dr. Ross suggested we do his exam first so he wouldn’t have to stay cooped up for long.

That’s when things went south.

We opened the bathroom door to find Banner standing guard by the tub. I have no idea how he got there. He definitely wasn’t in the bathroom when I put Balboa inside. He must have slipped in as I was closing the door.

So first we had to get Banner out of the bathroom, which is tiny, to give Dr. Ross and her assistant room to work with Balboa. Meanwhile, Balboa was trying to make his escape right over Banner.

Chaos ensued.

Finally, I got Banner out and we quickly closed the door. It started with a few small, pitiful meows but quickly escalated to growls and then full-on cat screaming.

I knew exactly what was happening in there and there was absolutely no reason for the drama.

Banner was beside himself. The louder Balboa screamed, the harder Banner tried to get back into the bathroom to rescue him.

Eventually, Dr. Ross and her assistant emerged, followed by a very annoyed cat. They managed to give him his shots, check his teeth, and complete most of the exam. They did not get a weight, and they only managed to clip the nails on one paw.

Balboa made one circuit through the living room and headed straight for his safe place behind the headboard. Once he’s back there, nobody is getting him out.

Banner’s Turn

But now Banner was all worked up.

Our usually calm and cooperative orange buddy was having his own little meltdown. In his case, it showed up as a racing heart. Dr. Ross said Banner’s heart rate was actually higher than Balboa’s.

I always knew our little drama queen was faking.

Banner wasn’t especially cooperative about getting his nails trimmed either, but the rest of his exam went well. He had actually lost a little weight. Maybe that’s because Balboa keeps stealing his food.

Unlike his brother, Banner didn’t hold a grudge. As soon as he was freed, he forgave Dr. Ross and stretched out right beside her.

We chatted for a few minutes and I paid the bill. Then I walked Dr. Ross and her assistant to the door.

The Miracle Recovery

When I turned around, there was Balboa.

Friendly. Calm. Completely recovered.

I knew he was faking.

He’s spent the afternoon sleeping off both the medication and his imagined trauma in his kitty condo.

So that’s it for another year.

Thank goodness it’s over.

Honestly, I think the annual vet visit takes more out of me than it does them.

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