little furry costumes. Which reminded me(cue 'trip down memory lane' music),
Couple of decades ago, before daughter had shown up, wife and I wound up with a cat. Little black & white furball traded for a bag of tomatoes from the garden. Cute thing, first housecat I'd ever had, got real fond of him. Time came for him to be, ah, 'fixed' was the term was I grew up with. I had to work days right then, so wife dropped him at the vet on her way since she didn't have to go as early, planning to pick him up after work.
Handed him off to the vet(no carrier, just on a leash) with no problem: "Here you go, go with him and I'll be back for you later." No problem. Fast forward to about 3 p.m., phone rings and the vets' receptionist says "Can you come get your cat?" In a slightly unhappy tone of voice.
Permission sought and granted to leave early, she drove over and, as she opened the door, was assaulted by the damndest noise you could imagine from a bunch of critters; every dog, cat or whatever he worked on was barking, hissing, howling, yowling or whatever noise they could make. Courtesy of guess who...
It seems that he went into the cage with no problem, and when his time came the vet opened the door and said "Let's go" and reached in.
After temporary bandages were applied, and with the help of gloves and his assistant, cat was removed from cage despite his 'leopard in the long grass' imitation and anesthetized. Of course, the first dose only made him woozy; took a second to actually put him out. Then, surgery done, he was returned to the cage while the vet went for stitches. Or maybe the assistant did that. Never did find out that part.
In any case, cat began coming out of it, and as soon as he could rolled to a crouch, looked around, found the nearest four-leg and began staring. Until said four-leg began barking. Then moved on to the next, and the next... they'd called wife early because he had every animal in the place going, and every time one quieted down he'd move The Stare back to them and start them back up; he refused to stop, and they couldn't quiet the others down.
Vet stuck his head out and saw her, said "I'll get him" and went to the cage, at which point cat backed into the furthest corner and began describing exactly what was going to happen when the door opened. Vet was pulling the gauntlets on over the bandages when wife said "Let me try." Which seemed like a better idea than a repeat match, so the vet unlatched the door and opened it, stepping out of the way. Wife called "Here Catmatyx(long story), here kitty kitty." At which he looked around, saw her, jumped out, ran to her and managed to jump high enough to reach her arms, where he promply settled in. Which was one of the more amazing parts, as after he got home he promply flopped, and barely moved except to eat a bit, drink a bit and wobble to the litterbox until the next day.
Last thing she heard from the vet? "Please don't bring him back. Ever." For some reason.
Even better: he weighed, oh, probably six or seven pounds then; when he got his full growth, in winter ran about fourteen.