Memories

This morning I'm up bright and early so that I can take the two kittens we have been fostering to the vet to be fixed in preparation for their adoption. 

It brings my thoughts back to a summer day many years ago when we were watching a friend's cat for the summer while he took a summer job and couldn't take his cat.  While the cat was in our charge he asked us to have her declawed.  So here starts the memory, taking a cat that is not ours to the vet to have a procedure.

On this particular occasion, the vet convinced me that I should get the cat a pain patch.  It wasn't my cat and I couldn't reach her owner so I agreed (out of guilt I suppose).  Anyway, the pain patch came with instructions.  Very specific instructions.  Such as, don't touch it or you could get violently ill and die.  Don't let it stay on the cat for more than 2 days or it could get violently ill and die.  Not what I was expecting when I agreed at all.

The time for the patch would have expired while we were at work and I knew my hubby would either forget or would be running late for work himself so I decided to do it before I got in the shower in the morning.  That way if I touched it I could immediately wash any remnants off (and not die).

Anyway, I took the cat to the bathroom so I could take the patch off and dispose of it in the toilet (per the instructions).  The cat didn't like it, but she didn't scratch at me or anything so I figured we were ok. 

I guess I was wrong.  The cat really didn't like having a 2 X 4 patch of hair pulled at so what did she do?  She hopped on my bed and peed on my sleeping husband.  What a way to wake up!  Needless to say, he got in the shower while I cleaned up the mattress. 

For years that cat hated my husband (not sure why since I was the one to remove the patch).  Today she is living with us again (her owner moved overseas and couldn't take her) and doesn't seem to hold it against us any longer.  Not that we let her near our mattress (just in case).