I'd read over the pre-Surgery requirements for over a month, so I was very familiar with the 'Rules'...no food after 9pm, the night before the surgery, no water in the morning, with Kit having to be at the shelter by 7:30am for an all-day stay...and I agonized over how I'd keep Kit away from food. Should I lock him up in, say, the bathroom, for the night, so that Gray and Pi could still eat...or should I just hide all the food, and make all three cats fast for a night? I decided on hiding the food, as I feared Kit might totally trash the bathroom, and be impossible to catch, much less put in the carrier, in the morning!

At 9, I put EVERYTHING in the refrigerator and freezer, as the cats watched, curiously. Of course, being the mental giant that I am, it didn't dawn on me that putting moist cat food in the freezer would make it hard as a rock, but that would be a discovery I'd make in the morning!

The cats all seemed nonplussed over the lack of food for the first couple of hours, and I decided to pop a couple of Tylenol PMs at 11, hoping I'd get a good night's sleep...a plausible idea which would turn out to be, sadly, a fantasy...Starting shortly after midnight, either individually or as a group, Pi, Gray, and Kit provided me with a 'live' performance of howling next to my head, or bouncing across my body...EVERY time I'd start to nod off, WHAM!...Kitty Serenade and Acrobatic Show...By 6:30am, I was exhausted and cranky, and I decided to get Kit into the carrier, so the other cats could eat.

I'd never had a problem with Kit and the carrier, before; all I had to do was to place the leather bag on it's end, and drop him into it. But not THIS morning...Spreading out all four legs, he clung tenaciously to the sides of the carrier, biting and scratching me...and my loud, colorful language quickly terrorized Gray, who ran and hid, and Pi, who got into my face, meowing her disapproval! My first attempt was a complete failure, with Kit diving under my bed. As I pulled the king-sized bed away from the wall, Kit began darting around the apartment, with me stumbling along, behind him. I finally caught him, and again shoved him into the carrier...only to have him leap out AGAIN as I tried to zip it closed...and the chase began, yet again!

Panting hard, I closed one door of the apartment after another, finally trapping Kit in the dining room. We did a couple of laps around the dining room table, and I had to sit down, to catch my breath...then I had a stroke of genius. Announcing, "Breakfast Time!", I pretended to fill the cats' food bowls, which were sitting on the table...and Kit leapt upon the table to eat! I quickly snagged him, and shoved the crying cat in the carrier, awkwardly zipping it shut with one hand.

Opening the refrigerator to get the cat food out, and feed Gray and Pi, I discovered it had all FROZEN! Cussing lustily, I yelled I'd feed them when I got back, and I left, with my unwilling companion in tow.

After a twenty-minute wait, as the clinic hadn't opened, I was finally able to check Kit in, and I left, stopping by the grocery store to buy more cat food. Returning to the apartment, Pi quickly voiced her displeasure of my actions, and refused to eat...Gray, on the other hand, was positively overjoyed that Kit was gone, eating lustily, then crawling into my lap to get petted! His affection continued, unabated, all day long, as he stayed by my side, nuzzling me, a picture of total devotion...

I returned to the clinic at 4:15pm to pick Kit up, expecting to find an unhappy, doped-up cat. Well, he WAS quiet, at first. While making the drive back to the apartment, however, he began to mew, a bit, so I opened up the bag to pet him...and he leapt out through the tiny opening! I was stunned he was so frisky...and he seemed to enjoy the ride, to boot! He even climbed back into the carrier, willingly, when we got home, so I could carry him up the steps.

Pi was ecstatic to see Kit back, sniffing, then grooming him thoroughly. Gray, on the other hand, moped and meowed, finally resigning himself to again having to share his domain.

The surgery didn't slow Kit down a step; other than a swelling where his balls had been, and an inability to scratch things (I'd also had his claws trimmed), he was as bouncy as ever, leaping onto furniture, and racing around the apartment. As I type this, he's settled himself on my feet, as devoted and alert as always!

Who'd have thought it?

"I tot I taw a PUDDY TAT...THREE PUDDY TATS!!!"

TRAGEDY and MIRACLES!

"When I play with my cat, who knows whether
she isn't amusing herself with me more than I
am with her?"
- Montaigne 1533-92: Essais (1580)

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