Friday

I'm not sure where I got this picture, but substitute that cat for a chubby black and white tux kitty, and you'd have Max. He does not like going to the vet and has become so good at expressing his displeasure that he's earned a reputation.

Last month we took Buddah in for his shots and checkup; we took him in Max's blue plastic tomb, because it's nicer than the average pet carrier, and we figured Buddah would like to be able to stand and look out the car window on the way there. The thing about that tomb is that it's quite distinctive, and as we pulled it out of the car the people in the vet's office were watching out the window; as soon as we were through the door they took a closer look and sighed in unison "Thank God, it's not Max."

Yesterday Buddah had to go back for a booster shot; he was terrified and trembled horribly, but he purred for the vet and even rubbed against him, but again, as we walked into the waiting area, the two people up front expressed relief that the kitty in the carrier was not Max.

They haven't seen Max since May, and it had been a good 6 months before that, but as the king of pooping at will, he's hard to forget.

Not only did Max poop all over me during at least one of his visits while he was so sick, all over the exam table, and the cage in the back, it seems that in a frenzy of You Will NOT Touch Me! Max pooped mightily and was able to smear it all over the wall.

Oddly, I'm a little proud of that.

They have six months to brace themselves, because he's going back. And I imagine he'll have saved up an awful lot of poop by then...

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