Mountain Kitten, You're a Changed kitten

First vet trip today, second car trip ever. 

The woman at the front desk knew our rural street, and inquired if we lived near a blue house on the bend that had been for rent and for sale on and off for awhile. I said that I couldn't picture the house, that our house had been for rent and for sale on and off for awhile, but our house was white and probably had been for a long time. 

Beren and I sat down across the room from a woman and her huge dog, Buster. Beren and I flipped through a book called "Cats in Love", which seemed to be photographed entirely in one teeming feral cat colony in a rural, coastal European town. We commented on leaping cats, fighting cats, tussling cats, and nursing cats. 

I was surprised to see a photograph of three kittens at least as big as our own three month old Mountain Kitten, nursing. I had sensed that Mountain could have used at least another few weeks with his mother, though he was already eating plenty of cat food when we brought him home.

"Mountain?" the vet assistant called, and I lugged our oversized Uline box/kitten carrier to exam room 1.

The vet, or "The Cat Doctor", as I called her to Beren, was congenial, gentle, and a touch enthusiastic. "What a handsome cat! Is this your cat?" she asked Beren. "Mm hm," he replied.

We opted for the feline leukemia and FIV tests, deworming, and of course, the reason we were there, rabies and distemper shots. 

"I'll take him back for the test, and I'll do the vaccine at the same time," she said.

"OK," I said uncertainly. Beren reached to be picked up. 

"I'll be right back," The Cat Doctor said. 


When she left, cradling our kitten in her arms, I asked Beren, "Are you worried about Mountain?"

"No," he said. But I had the feeling of a doctor wheeling my infant (cat) out the door. This is what we are 'supposed' to do, and I like this person, but that's my kitten. 

Earlier, when we were in the waiting room, a tired looking woman with a cat came in. The cat cried a few times from the carrier on the floor. The woman stared across the room. She was called, and an assistant vet took the cat in the carrier to the back.

The assistant returned with the news that the cat would have to stay. The woman left without asking to see her cat.

Shortly, The Cat Doctor returned with Mountain, who we gently returned to his box. We soon learned, unsurprisingly, that Mountain Kitten was a healthy kitten.

At home, he lazed around, quite a bit unlike himself. He infrequently engaged Beren in kitten play (I think they are both playing and fighting each other for Top Cat position). He discovered a warm hiding spot behind the wood stove and rested there again and again. Jared and I agreed, "This mellow cat thing is nice, but it's too bad that it's because he took his second car trip ever and wound up at The Cat Doctor."