4:56 p.m. - 2002-03-20
Tylenol's Operatic Career
I just got back from taking Tylenol to his vet, Dr. J. I had been dreading this all day, because the minute he is put in a carrier, Ty starts belting out "The Duke's Duet" from "Il Schizophreno". Like all good Siamese cats, Ty knows that when the going gets tough, the tough start howling.
It really is draining. He's very loud.
We managed to make it to the vet despite my yearnings to strangle him and several detours to look at houses I thought were for sale, and one very spectacular red camellia which I just had to stop and stare at for a few minutes. Miraculously we were only ten minutes late.
In Boston we would have been told, politely, that we were very late and we would have to come back some other time and pay for the missed appointment besides, but not here in Alabama. Nooo ho!! For Alabama we were considered right on time, early in fact, which is a good thing because before seeing the vet we had to catch up on how everyone's children and grandchildren and pets are, and then we had to go through the run down of all my animals, all six of them. How is Athena? Is she still whupping Ty's ass? What a naughty girl! And is Burroughs still incredibly huge? What is he now, 17 pounds? 18 pounds?! Unbelievable! And Zesto? Did we go to Auburn to have his hearing tested? And so on and so on.
We know everyone at Dr. J's. We have so many animals with so many odd health problems that they actually recognise my voice when I call for appointments.
We finally get ushered in to see Dr. J, who is about my age and the closest I have ever seen to a punk veterinarian. She has bleached blond, kind of spiky hair, and is pale as death. Despite this she actually has a rather perky demeanor. We once saw her at a restaurant and she had on a fabulous black outfit with a killer leather jacket.
Dr. J. loves Ty. She talks to him in the high, screachy voice people reserve for small children and extremely cute animals. Ty does not find this reassuring and crawls under my shirt. I make the mistake of trying to pull him out at the same time Dr. J. is trying to give him his rabies shot. Hopefully the scars will heal with time.
The grand finale is a nasal vaccination spray, and then some more discussion of children and deaf cats and alligators in Florida on the way out, and then a shorter drive home with less singing and no househunting detours. In honour of his splendid operatic abilities, Ty gets his favorite snack (a blob of tunafish on a potato chip) and then wanders off to sleep on a hot water bottle.
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