Oh but he was! The trauma of his annual trip to the veterinarian for his vaccination boosters brought out Griswald’s inner Mr. Humphries (or Niles Crane, depending on your decade and side of the pond). His histrionics are impressive, if you don’t have to share the cab of a pickup with his yowling, howling, frenzied dramatics.
Griswald, in his traditional fine form, pissed himself while we were on the way to the vet’s office. We couldn’t have been even halfway there when the unfortunately familiar stench made itself known.
Minnie, in her own traditional form, was perfectly well behaved, only griping periodically, most likely about being confined in her carrier rather than about the car ride itself. Griswald, however, carried on as though he were being eviscerated. Very. Slowly. For as big of a pill as Minnie can be, she’s quite a ladylike pussy in the car.
Once we got to the vet’s office, Grizzo was just fine, though of course he took his siren wails back up for the ride home. The vet toweled Griz off a bit and mopped out the bottom of his crate, but I almost think that made the stink worse.
Of course, I decided I’d get clever on my way home and take the highway back. I drove on State Ave all the way there (about 50 blocks, I might add) and I’d driven back from the vet’s before on the highway (the last time I took Ruby in), so I figured it would be nice to get home that little bit faster.
Well, due to the frenzied caterwauling (and the fact that I really needed to pee, my own self) I was distracted and took a wrong turn. Not only that, but I didn’t realize how wrong until I found myself crossing the Riverside city limits.
I swore so vehemently that the cat even shut up for about 30 seconds. Found an exit, took it, and got going back the other way. I had to go almost all the way back to where I started, and ended up doing about 40 blocks on State Ave. anyway. To the sensation of a full bladder and the stench of a panicked, piss-soaked cat.
And so, of course, when we got home, I couldn’t just let the cat out of his crate and call it a day. Nooooo, I had to do the leftover dishes, clear out the sink and counter, fill up the sink with lukewarm water (with a splash of vinegar, to cut the pee smell), grab the cat by the scruff of his neck, and swish him around in the sink for a while. I kind of dunked him up and down and stirred the water with him, so as (I hoped) to rinse as much pee out of his fur as possible. I didn’t even bother soaping him or anything. Just make it as quick and relatively painless as possible. In five minutes tops, I was sopping him up with a big towel. He spent the rest of the afternoon hovering over a heat vent, ears held flat, licking himself vigorously.
But the upshot of the whole affair is that his fur is now more gloriously soft and fluffy than it’s been in ages. The vinegar rinse really brought out the body and shine, not that he cares especially.
