My Monster

It's been a little hectic and I still need to book an appointment for the dentist, but was good and made an appointment to bring the boys into the vet. Walter hasn't gone yet and I wanted to make sure Winston was making progress after his surgery in February.



Now let me preface that I understand the vet is not a pleasent place to be - where strangers poke and prod you, there is no place to hide, there are scary new sounds and smells with other crazy animals around and they (the vets, not the animals) keep stabbing you with sharp objects. And that I also understand that this is where the boys lived at the beginning of their life, in cages, without me. And that this is also the place that they lost their little furry balls. So I understand that this is not the number one spot on their wish list of places to visit.



As a reminder, Winston is my big white boy. He is a mama's boy, and is a bit on the lazy side. When people come over, while his brother, Walter, is making love with them, he's off hiding in the closet. He's pretty laid back - although he does love his food.



Well, yesterday, thank goodness, I was stuck in traffic after work and running late. I had been thinking of just packing the boys up into their carriers and walking to the vet - it's literally three blocks away. It seems silly to get in the car, drive for a minute, and find parking. But I was running late and did I mention Winston is a bit on the heavy side?



We make it into the exam room and they're doing relatively well (don't forget this is where they lost their manhood)... but I'm not. All of a sudden, out of the blue (and I stress - completely from right field), my stomache decides to divert the latest hurricane off the coast of Florida and have it visit. It's - a - rumbling, things are turning upside down, it's not going well. I'm listening to the vet. Winston is getting weighed (he's gained a few pounds - that's my big boy). I'm ignoring the storm that's brewing - maybe it will pass. The vet explains things. What things I'm not quite sure. I am focusing on keeping the storm contained. Winston is being examined. The storm is getting worse. The storm is not going to pass - it's going to do some damage. I need to find a bathroom. I excuse myself, leaving the vet with a tense Winston, who is quietly trying to wait out his own internal storm. Walter has put on his cloak of invisibility and is quietly trying to disappear in the far corner of the cat carrier.



Relief, somewhat, and I return - to chaos. Winston and Walter are hissing at each other, the vet is in the corner and the tension in the room is thicker than molasses on a hot summer day (actually I guess a cold winter day would make it thicker, never mind). The instant I stepped out the door, Winston lost it. His mom abandoned him and damn-it, he wasn't going back - they weren't going to take him - not alive. And he turned into Monster Winston:



Well it all went down hill from there. I was back, I could calm them both down (naive me). But unfortunately Winston had lost it and was not to be reassured. Walter got his examination and shots. He wasn't happy anymore, especially since his own brother turned on him. My stomache still wasn't happy and Winston was not happy with anyone in the room and everyone would feel his wrath. But, it wasn't that much worse than what I had seen before, until it was his turn to get his shots. And than he turned into this:



Yes, the scariest, meanest, monster ever. The vets (an assistant was brought in) had the full on protective gear - gloves up to the shoulders, towel and still it took awhile to wrestle him into submission to get his shots (and here I thought I could get them to trim his nails, that was definately out of the question). It didn't get really bad until we had to put him back into the pet carrier. Up until now, he was wrapped in a towel which muted his anger and attacks. The second he was unwrapped from the towel he was lashing out left and right at everything and everybody. The vet, Walter, and I were all backed into our respective corners while the monster dominated the room and the assistant "worked up a sweat" wrestling him into the carrier.



And it wasn't over. Winston was a pretzel in the carrier - it's a duffle bag with mesh sides - not the hard plastic one. So his claws were stuck on everything and he looked like he was in the midst of an intense game of Twister - where his life was at stake. He wasn't backing down. Anytime anyone came near he went into attack mode. So I spent some time comforting Walter, paid the bill (ouch) and made one last run to the bathroom to let the storm pass. Since the bag with the monster was scary, I ran and got the car and double parked outside. When I picked up the bag, I realized it wasn't completely closed, so I literally ran to the car to dump the Winston monster in it.



The vet had mentioned that Winston might need a room to himself last night. Boy was she wrong. I brought him upstairs, right near his closet he hides in, and out of the pet carrier comes - ta da - plain old, lazy Winston. The monster had disappeared. It was a miracle. We quickly resumed our old habits and were one happy family last night, all snuggly on the couch watching tv.



Except, Winston isn't doing well - he's getting clogged up again. We've upped his medicine, and he has a follow up appointment in two weeks (that's not going to be fun). But it looks like he might have to have surgery - where they remove part of his intestine. I don't even want to think how much that will cost - I might be the one turning into a monster at that visit. The angry money monster.