In five minutes or so I will start my "hunt the cat" exercise for the month. Frankie goes to the vet about every 4 to 5 weeks to get a steroid jag and he seems to know when we are going - and he hides.
I have blocked off all his hidey holes - or I think that I have (but I thought that I had done this last month - but he was under the bed hiding).
How does he know?
His sister is wandering around but there is no Frankie - wish me luck.
What a total anti-climax. Frankie was lying back on my/our bed snoozing innocently in the king sized duvet. I grabbed him and was most of the way down the stairs before he woke up properly.
Apart from the vet's waiting room being full of big dogs there was no problem at all. The vet had a bit of a problem convincing him to leave his carrier - he was hanging on to it firmly.
He is now home and prowling around - just had a fight with his sister so we are back to normal.
ex - I have had two hounds in my adult life and I always thought that cats were evil, sly, condescending, spiteful and vicious little creatures.
Now that I have been a cat slave for 10 years of so I find to my horror that they are all of the above. I would also tell you of all their redeeming features but my mind blanked thinking of one. :-)