Today was Pepper's turn to visit the vet. He absolutely, positively hates being put in the cat carrier, but he has no choice in the matter. Wonderful. A cat suffering mental anguish, as evidenced by his distressed meows. Ah, but a little George Benson cured his distress.
Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast. Okay, it's the savage breast, and there's nothing really savage about our cat, but the music worked.
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2 comments:
I would call a cat in a pet carrier a savage beast. It's so bad with our cat that my wife refuses to even be in the same room with me and our "domesticated" cat when I have to put her in. It usually takes a week or so before my cat will look at me again. And only then because I feed her.
You're right. When Peps is in the carrier, he's about as savage as he's ever going to be. The only time he's ever hissed is when he was released from the carrier, and he was doggone mad. He was a younger, feistier cat then.
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