It was the annual visit to the vet today.
I located the cat carrier, vaccination records, and last but definitely not least Harriet (the cat). We then went through the painful process of transportation to the vet clinic. I don’t think I ever hear a more mournful sound than what emerges from the cat carrier during these visits.
However once we arrive and see Murray the vet, my traumatised cat becomes the most friendly and docile pussy cat. She seems genuinely relaxed in the hands of a master, and even the injection doesn’t seem to register as unpleasant.
Dr Murray has the aura of an animal whisperer, he chats happily about his own two cats and their different personalities all the while Harriet is being held and stroked, much more than she allows at home.
It is refreshing being in the presence of someone who is so obviously suited to their profession. It leaves a glow that even the mournful sounds on the way back home can’t quite diminish.