Saturday, December 01, 2012
a visit to the vet
And then it is time to go into the small examination room. I open the traveling compartment and there appears to be no cat inside! She has pressed herself against the side of the carrier, determined to avoid all contact with the examining table. I hold the carrier upside down, door open, but she has pushed all her paws against the walls, Mission Impossible-style, and is not coming out. So I set down the carrier and drag her out, butt first. Lots of screaming and hissing and trying to claw the table. Throughout all of this, I am constantly speaking calmly to her and reassuring everyone around me that she is not the evil offspring of Darth Vader.
Nevertheless, the exam goes okay. I hold Jazz firmly, rub her neck and ears, talk to her about pleasant things like scratching furniture and winning a game of slapsies with Dean, while the vet probes her from butt to gums and listens to her heart and lungs. All good. The vet calls in a technician to hold Jazz while she administers a rabies shot. It takes a few tries and in the first attempt, the vet spills a bit of the vaccine as Jazz does a super-fast lunge move, Jackie Chan-style, which catches the technician off-guard. But no one gets hurt, there is no blood, and no property is damaged. It is a good visit, overall. After the shot, Jazz can't wait to get back in the carrier, but she refuses to eat a treat I give her from the vet's front office. No doubt she thinks it is a trick. Or poison.
Jazz is quiet until we near home when she starts to meow and look out the window. She can't wait to get back home where no one is poking her with needles or trying to look at her gums. I get her safely inside our condo, release her from the carrier, and then go out to get something from the car. When I come back inside, she is glaring at me reproachfully from the stairs, sitting higher than me. Then she tries to make a dash out the door. Everything is back to normal.
The annual visit to the vet with Jazz always reminds me of my own dramatic, fearful tendencies. My reactions to situations are often overblown and unfounded. I often find it hard to trust when I don't understand. I sometimes respond badly because of unpleasant associations or past experiences instead of taking the present (and new) situation at face value. And I am too often threatened by those who are higher, smarter, wiser, quicker, or appear to be more successful. The truth is that I walk day by day with a faithful, caring God and a loving community. Nothing changes that, not even my fearful heart.