Cat on the Lam

by Pa Rock
Cat Tolerator

Stuff has been leaving my house trailer all week, going out the door with various large men who put it into their big trucks and then drive it away. Scroungy Bastard is smart, and he knew something was up. He has been nervous and watchful all week.

So this morning when I stuffed Scroungy Bastard into a kitty carrier, he probably assumed his end was near. My objective, unknown to the rangy orange cat, was to get him to the vet for shots. He cried most of the way to Pet Smart, but once we got there he was unexpectedly calm - resigned to his fate.

Here is what I learned from the vet. Scroungy is a neutered male, closer to five-years-old than he is to two-years-old. He has some tartar on his teeth, but apparently it isn't too bad because we didn't get a referral to a kitty dentist. Also, he does not have feline leukemia.

When Scroungy walked into my life, he didn't possess a shot record, so today we had to begin with the assumption that he had never had shots before. He ended up getting three shots and a dose of wormer - and an appointment to come back in three weeks for a couple of booster shots. The vet assured me he would be good to go for around three years after all of this vaccine. (I wanted his new humans, whoever they might prove to be, to not be burdened with any medical bills.)

Scroungy was sort of lethargic on the ride back to the Wheezin' Geezer, but he instinctively knew when we turned into the trailer park, and began crying. Once we were safely back to our place, I put the carrier on the ground and opened the door. Scroungy Bastard exited cautiously, and then slowly walked across the street - but I didn't worry because it's his neighborhood. That was eleven hours ago - and he hasn't been back since. He didn't even show for supper.

I hope that he is just out hiding under someone's porch, sleeping off the effects of his shots, and teaching me a well-deserved lesson.