Interesting morning

So we have stray cats. Quite a few. I guess around eight or so. Over the past year, I’ve been getting them “fixed”, a few at a time, every few months, attempting to get ahead of the reproduction curve. Our local spay/neuter clinic had a special on for January - $20 neutering - fantabulous. I made my appointment, and the big day was this morning. The two male cats, both around a year old, had no idea of the great day in store for them.

The black cat, “LBC” (Little Black Cat), stayed indoors last night and was none the wiser when I picked him up this morning from in front of the fireplace and plopped him in the pet carrier. “Uh…what’s going on…” his eyes seemed to say.

The orange cat, “Thing One”, was outside waiting for food. Hey…here’s an idea Thing One, instead of eating kibble this morning, let’s go get your berries snipped! Being one year old, not wise to the world (and - being a cat), he had no frame of reference (do any of us??), so he was all in. Plop - Thing One goes into pet carrier number two. I sensed a tinge of regret at that moment from Thing One. Perhaps, he thought, this wasn’t such a grand idea.

I grab my coffee, and head out the door, warm up the car, and then bring the pet carriers out and place them in the car. Both cats are audibly upset at this second new development. In an effort to make them feel better, I unwisely stack the pet carriers one on top of the other in the passenger seat, facing me, so that I can talk to them and perhaps make them feel better on the twenty minute drive to the clinic. But really, what can I say?

“Oh…I’m sure it sounds worse than it is…”

“Well, in a couple days…you won’t even remember they were there…”

So instead of talking, I play some Korn. Well, I don’t know if it was Korn, or the highway noise, or just the drama of it all, about ten minutes into the drive, LBC, who is in the top carrier, decides to pee in the carrier. Now, I would not have been immediately aware of this, except for what happens when you get a cat’s paw wet. The carrier is a typical plastic pet carrier with a plastic bottom. Well, all of the urine pooled on the low side of the carrier, and LBC’s paws were standing in the pee pool. If you’ve ever watched a cat get his paws wet, you know they lift them up, and shake them as fast as Micheal J. Fox and Janet Reno doing the quick-step. The result? A fine mist of cat urine spraying out of the holes and front gate of the pet carrier - hitting me in the head, face, and entire right side of my body. So that’s how I learned that he peed.


So now I’m going 70 miles an hour down the interstate, watching in horror as the low side corner of the carrier is starting to fill with yellow cat urine as it trickles down the floor of the carrier. In a matter of seconds, it is brimming at the edge, threatening to spill over into the seat below, my console, and probably all over Thing One, who is squalling at the top of his lungs in the pet carrier below, no doubt concerned for manifold reasons, not the least of which is his impending testicle removal and/or the topping of the urine containment levy above his head.

I’m hitting the Exit 321 merge just as all this is unfolding, an area that can be sort of busy with cars and trucks changing lanes at rush hour. So I’m driving with my knee, reaching over with my left hand to tilt the carrier in an attempt to level it so that I have no “deep end of the urine pool” while simultaneously getting sprayed with urine coming off LBC’s paws that are vibrating like a cicada, and with my other hand I’m grabbing a work t-shirt to stuff in the opening to try to sop up the urine.

To a person witnessing this from a passing car, it must have looked like I was having a seizure. No doubt the grimace on my face from the smell of cat urine didn’t help.

I get the carrier front door open and stuff my shirt in, pushing LBC further back into the carrier. The last thing I need is a freaked out stray cat jumping out of the carrier with urine soaked paws and tearing around the car at this moment. Maybe at a red light or something, but not at 70 miles an hour. It was tempting to open a window, aim the door of the carrier at it, and let fate make the decision, but that was just a fleeting thought.

So I jam LBC back in the carrier and my white t-shirt quickly turns yellow with cat urine. I’m still holding the top of the carrier with my left hand to keep it level, twisted around in my seat, driving with my left knee, and rapidly wiping the bottom of the carrier with my right hand. Meanwhile, cars are going 40 mph in the right lane, and 80 mph in the left lane, and I’m in the center lane dealing with this Bellagio dancing fountain of cat urine. How could a cat have sooooo much pee in him? His name is "L"BC - as in, “Little”. He must be all bladder.

I make it through the merge zone, get over in the right lane, put the soaking wet t-shirt on the floor (thank God for Weather Tech mats), and soon reach my exit.

The clinic opens at 8am, but there are already people in line. I take my two cats, make my way in, and I can practically see the green bubble of cat urine stench that envelopes me like a shield from Endor. It’s in my hair, my face, my jacket. The lobby of the spay/neuter clinic is tiny, and there are probably eight people in line, with their carriers, looking far less harried, and smelling far better (and this is Gastonia, so that’s actually amazing). I smile, and go the route of explaining to the people in line that HE (pointing to LBC), peed in his cat carrier, and it isn’t ME that peed my pants, and THAT is what they smell. Everyone smiles encouragingly, and, as if I were Moses, take a few steps back to really let the airflow circulate.

After ten minutes, it’s my turn at the desk. LBC and Thing Two are in their carriers on the floor next to the check in desk, still squalling as if they were about to get their balls removed. Oh, well, yeah. So I’m finishing up the paperwork at the desk with the receptionist when a huge orange and black striped cat jumps up on the counter and saunters over to me. He is a rescue cat that lives at the clinic. He must weigh twenty pounds. He walks up to me, sniffing. And for a brief moment, I recall the words of the awesome comedian John Mulaney and think, “Well, this might as well happen…” and figure the cat is probably going to try to pee on me to contest my LBC brand musk.

That did not happen. But it probably should have. Clinic Cat took a few whiffs, jumped down, and went to check out the two maniacally screaming cats on the floor. I finish paying, and walk out the door, no doubt to the great relief of all those remaining in line…my urine stench cloud trailing along behind me like Pigpen from the Peanuts comic strip.

I get in my car, wipe down as much as I can, roll the windows down on this 25 degree morning, and drive home with all the windows down and the sunroof open. It’s freezing, I’m running the heat full blast, but hoping the car will get aired out. As I pull onto the highway, I get up to around 65 miles an hour, and suddenly, the Sunday newspaper, which is sitting in the back seat, explodes from the swirling wind in the car as if an IED were under it. I mean…it wasn’t just some ruffling and a page or two tearing free, it was as if it were a dying sun that decided to go supernova in a split second. The headlines, inserts, fliers, and the comics go flying around the inside of my car like an instant F5 tornado has struck. A few pages escape through the sunroof and get pinned to the racks above my car, some go out the side windows. The local section flies by my face and I catch a glimpse of a typical Gastonia headline: “Gaston Man Faults Ebola in Fallout Over Woman’s Shoes”. This county is awesome.

I quickly roll up the windows, glance in my rear view mirror to see if I’m about to get pulled by a trooper for littering (again, “This might as well happen…”)…but to my great relief, there are no blue lights trailing me. I arrive home, stinky, already exhausted for my day, park the car, and leave the windows down. As I walk up the steps…who is there to great me? Four more unfixed cats. They are hungry.



Dude, this is the internet: No cat pictures is pretty much breaking the law, cmon? :crying_cat_face:

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This is what it looked like this morning…

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And in case you didn’t believe me about the local news part of the paper…well, today’s headline…

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No wonder I felt so good on the ride home…

LOL Always, always put a folded towel in the bottom of the cat carrier!


Next time…I’m taking a page from Romney’s book…

What’s the windchill at 70 mph and 23F? Can’t be that bad…


OMG please don’t.

You get a big like from me because you are a cat lover (which I happen to be as well). :smile:
IMO Cats are the greatest animals (Ducks are number two in case you wanted to know).

Also your text it hilarious! Well written. :smile:

So here is my best cat + vet story:
Lucky me, the vet isn’t far, it is just a 5 minutes drive. I couldn’t stand it longer anyway. Here is why.
When my cat needed to be fixed (she was peeing everywhere, including on my bed and on my PC, and on my wife’s head) I lured her into her carrier using treats, everything was fine. I then carried her to the car, which was fine, loaded her into the passenger footwell (I feared peeing and figured it was both safer and easier to clean if I put the carrier there), and everything was fine. Happy cat, happy me.
Then I started the engine…
My cat started to meow loud enough to be heard at a Motörhead concert, about once a second. I tried to talk to her, turn music on, and pretty much everything I knew that may help. It didn’t.
Worst minutes of my life until that point. It was then that I decided my wife would do the next and all following vet trips. :smiley:
I arrived at the vet’s parking lot, stopped the engine, and my cat returned to her default calm behaviour.
I carried her inside, and while sitting in the waiting room I thought: “well, this isn’t too bad after all”. A big friendly dog walked by, and noticed I had a cat. It immediately started wagging its tail, and the owner told me he loves cats, and he’s a cuddly nice angel.
…and my little cat transformed. It was like in Gremlins. She needed about quarter of a second to go from nice little cat to murderous monster mode. She would have fit into the mouth of her target, but she didn’t care. The dog was shocked.
I turned the carrier around to help my cat back to normal mode. It didn’t work. I sat there for 20 minutes with a cat everyone else who entered the room thought had gone completely mad, like with rabies.
Finally the vet was ready,I left the cat there and went to work, and the vet told me to fetch her (the cat that is) in the afternoon.

When I returned she was still asleep from the narcotics (yay, no meowing on the way home!), but the vet told me she had bitten about every person in the practice - twice - while trying to get her out of the carrier.
I had known that cats have their eyes open while in anaesthesia, but I wasn’t prepared for how creepy it was actually looking.
I took her home and waited for her to wake up. The vet had told me to watch her waking up and help her while she was still a bit dazed. So I put her on the ground in her carrier, next to my chair, and played Black Shark (it was before DCSW). Some time later she woke up, and she looked like me after half a bottle of Bourbon. Instead of just lying there waiting she tried to get up. The problem was that her aft legs tried to walk into another direction than her front legs. So cue for me crouching around in my flat behind a cat, stabilizing her, because I didn’t want her to fall. She tried to climb on the sofa, which hurt of course, and wouldn’t let me touch her either. When she tried lying down to sleep it hurt as well, so it was back to walking.
At least she had decided to stay in the living room, puking and peeing on the carpet (the vet had told me that could happen because of the nausea that follows the anaesthesia) while I was watching Star Trek TNG reruns with my wife. After about three hours she (the cat that is) managed to climb on my lap, making weird noises, but finally she managed to fall asleep.

So there I was, sitting on the sofa until 3 AM, watching TV and smelling of cat pee like hell, almost peeing myself because I didn’t dare to move, but hey, when she woke up she felt much better. I love her :slight_smile:


Dora and I are reading this together and laughing and purring and shaking our heads.


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My car still smells like cat pee. It’s horrible. I’m leaving windows down…but man, I really hope that smell fades over the next weeks because it is disgusting. Grrr…

Both cats are doing fine though…no issues with the surgery…so I’m happy with that…

As someone who owned a cat-pee-contaminated carpet for years, I can tell you: It probably won’t stop.
I cleaned that carpet with basically everything that doesn’t dissolve it, several times, and it still smelled.
The stench got a bit better, in the end you could only smell it when standing on the carpet itself, or when the the room’s doors and windows were closed for more than a day.

After two years or so I couldn’t stand it anymore and threw it away.

Well I guess I’ll share too.

I have this image burned into my brain that I’ll never forget. Back when i was a little kid, maybe 5 or 6, we had a cat, he was an in/out cat so he just sort of came and went as he pleased. He was really good at getting into fights, and would come home pretty beat up sometimes. My mom got pretty good at the “home vet” thing but one time we didnt see him for a few days. When he showed up finally he had this big infected abcess the size of a ping pong ball on his neck. So mom decided we had to go to the vet, and i had to come along. So we stuffed poor old cat in a cat carrier and loaded up the car.

Thing was, the carrier we had was ine of those old fold up cardboard numbers youd get from the humane society, with the little air holes in it. So here i am buckled into the back seat of the car, the cat is in a box next to me. Engine starts and off we go. We actually make it a few miles, and then the cat goes nuclear. He goes int full air-raid siren mode, and starts tearing around the inside of the box. Meanwhile I’m stuck next to this scene, watching in horror. Nothing my mom can do can calm him down, and hes getting more agitated. Then he mamges to wedge two paws thru ain air hole, and sloly starts to tear his way through, jamming his head in thru the now-enlarged air hole. After a struggle he manages to get his head through, but cant get any further. To make matters worse, the monster abscess on his neck has broken open, and is fully venting the nastiest stuff Ive ever seen. Keep in mind this is all happening about 8 inches away from me in the back seat.
So that image, of a possesed demon cat head sticking out of a trashed cardboard box, screaming like a siren during a British air raid, eyes full of rage and murder, fur all matted with slobber and god knows what else, looking alot like that cat from Pet Cemetary, and copious amounts of pus and blood literally exploding out of his neck, is understandably tattoed in my mind.

We did eventually make it to the vet, and the cat was fine. He actually lived till he was about 16 or something. But I’ll never forget that car ride.


Sounds like the beginning of a Quentin Tarantino movie… :smiley:

Wow, that’s far worse than most stories. Thanks for sharing!
And it shows what people nowadays are ready to do for their cats, which might be a gleam of hope for humanity. :slight_smile:

And here’s a link y’all might like, it is full of heartwarming cat stories, often about strays:


Sounds like you need the gallon jug, too.