Shads au Contraire…

This year we were all set to take our five cats at Footlights for their annual rabies shots.

I went up into the attic and brought down the three boxes I have for mine.

Daughts worked on her two in the bardominium.

When the time arrived for departure mine wouldn’t co-operate.

Bedlam broke out in my house!

We were trying to wrestle an unsuspecting Madge into his carrier when he set up a loud wail (as only Toms can do) and the other two cats, heeding the warning, scampered every which way in an attempt to escape whatever fate was in store for them.

As a gentle soul I cannot bring myself to force or man-handle anyone or creature into doing something he, she or it doesn’t want to do.

“We should have brought the carriers down a week ago,” I said to Hubs as I let Madge go…

…to disappear on the top shelf of my closet out of reach.

“To get them accustomed…”

I shook my head and walked over to the barn to break the news to Daughts and watched as her two cats obediently made their own ways into their respective carriers…

“I couldn’t get mine to load,” I said.

“You’re not insistent enough,” she said with a scowl.

Somehow I always get the willful beings.

We’ve put the rabies shots off for now…as long as a rabid bat doesn’t make it into the house we’re good!

It wasn’t two weeks later that I caught Shads casually checking out the crate our son had brought over for Sprout, his pyrenees puppy,


“What you staring at?” his look seemed to say, “I’m a cat…

“…a very contrary cat!”

and he settled in for a doze.


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