Crime, Punishment and Disease

This past Friday was Feline Retribution day at our house. As punishment for causing undue familial grief the cat's punishment was a visit to the vet.

We had a dry run the week before when I misunderstood the date of the appointment. At that time my wife tried to cram the over sized mini-panther into the cat carrier. She decreed it was impossible and that we needed a new one.

Opposites attract. My wife is an attractive pessimist. I am an attractive optimist. Together we made attractive but inwardly conflicted children. I naturally assumed that the love of my life had written off something without giving it the fair try that my superior intellect could.

So after baiting the plastic air hole equipped breadbox with cat food I tried to lure, coherse, force and drop the unwilling participant in. Many scratches later I realized that the nature of cramming an angry, pudgy ball of fur and claws into a container that easily was 2 inches smaller than her rotund circumference was an exercise in imbecility.

We ended up doing what we did last time, we jammed the cat in a laundry basket and put another one on top. To prove that we were really all that white trash and a bag of pork rinds, we sealed the deal and the laundry carriers with twist ties and elastic bands.

In order to teach my older daughter a lesson about squeamishness I took her along. She apparently overreacted to her sister having a nosebleed so in my enlightened parenting style I brought her along in hopes that some animal would be in the waiting room with some sort of open wound or general trauma. She also gets a of Brownie badge for this, I'm still not sure how medical torture of animals works into that.

We arrived with our trailer park portable animal house. I was mortified to be seen in public like that, and was only briefly re-assured when a man leaned over to his wife and remarked 'That's a good idea'.

So the cat had her shots, and a checkup, and then we were given the licensing option. Pay $20 annually for the privilege of keeping this mildly mobile furniture destroyer, or have an RFID tag inserted in her for $50 and pay no tax ever.

Needless to say I now have a cyber-cat, which is uber-cool. They even showed us that it worked by running a scanner over her back. I nearly asked if there was an option of free post-secondary if I got the older child done at the same time, but the other criteria was the cat had to be fixed first.

On the way home we discussed the trip. Our cat is 16 pounds, which at 11 years old is overweight. The main danger is that she is a candidate for feline diabetes and that she can't properly lick her arse. I can identify with both myself.

My older daughter was discussing diabetes and she understood the general concept of it. Genetic predisposition, overall poor diet, not enough exercise, overweight, etc. Then she conjectured:
"Hey, I could give my Webkinz diabetes!"

In the care taking of the online creature one has the choice of healthy snack or treat and exercise or rest, each with the game encouraging the better alternative.

I, a man in his thirties, now want a Webkinz too. Christmas is coming, hint hint.