So, I went to pack him up in his box, and found out that my husband, who always throws away the wrong things and keeps the things I want to be rid of, hit again. He threw away the two cat boxes last week that I have been saving since July.
Skeeter is really docile and cuddly, never scratches or wriggles. So I put him in a topless box, and headed down the road about 2 hours ago. He jumped out and ran under my foot. I pulled over, picked him up, and tried to hold him while I was driving....something I yell at other people for within my own soundproof vehicle. I could have kept hold of him if his breath didn't have the kind of green fumes you only see on cartoons. I gasped and let him go. He ran under the back seat.
I arrived at the vet, got out of the car, called Skeeter, and realized there was no way he was coming out. I just started unbuckling The Toddler when Skeeter made a mad dash out the door. Lickety split, I was down on him like a rat on a Cheeto, as hubby likes to say when he needs to make me laugh.
Only, Skeeter was determined to get away. Five feet away from where we were was the main road through town with non-stop traffic careening by. I was determined I was not going to have to tell my kids I was responsible for another feline flattening. So, the only thing I could grab was Skeeter's tail. As I was grabbing for it desperately, I flew head first onto the pavement, to the horror of many passersby and the entire waiting room at the vet's office. I was on the ground, screaming Toddler strapped in the car seat, and holding onto my cat's tail for dear life, completely mortified at my position. I hid in the car for a few minutes, mustered up enough pride to get up and into the waiting room.
Hearing that the cat was open-mouth breathing, they rushed out to the car and got him, and brought him immediately into an exam room. The doctor said he has a severe case of pneumonia, and that I should get a feline AIDS/Leukemia test as well. I asked him if Skeeter has either, would he have to be put down? He said yes, or make him live in a bubble. I said, "Let's just treat the pneumonia, my kids cannot handle another cat death."
Meanwhile, I averted another death in the exam room. As we were waiting for the doctor to come back, The Lightening Fast Toddler (and I do not exaggerate), grabbed my keys out of my purse, found an outlet, and was 1 centimeter away from plunging a key into it.
Shocked that my bill was $105, I paid and started to walk outside. Skeeter went kuh-razeeeee, and pulled out every claw that he'd managed to get the Soft Paws off of, and dig them wildly into my neck flesh and arms, while the back leg claws ripped to shreds the plastic sack I was carrying full of his expensive meds. I dropped The Toddler's hand out of sheer pain, and then screamed because a truck was backing up and she is FAST. It seemed like minutes, but really only micro seconds, that I realized that I had to let Skeeter go (which meant certain death) so I could hang on to The Toddler.
Right then, a very caring young couple sprang out of their car and rushed to my aid. I never, ever ask for help with my kids from a stranger, but I was almost in tears and asked the girl to hold my toddler's hand. The guy got Skeeter and held his paws in a way that calmed him right down, and helped me get my crew loaded.
I flipped the box upside down on top of Skeeter, angry at him for making a potential situation a hazard to my child. No, it's not his fault, it's mine for not going and purchasing a cat carrier before I took him to the vet. But I just wanted to get him there before he got any sicker.
I'm home now, still shaking, and unable to do any of my errands I've already put off way past due.
Maybe I'm not cut out to be a pet owner.
In memory of Suki, the funniest, bestest hunting I cat I ever knew. I'm sorry. :(