Let me start by saying I don’t recommend bringing three pets and a 3-year-old to the vet by oneself. That is what I attempted this past weekend. And it wasn’t pretty.
Why on earth would I even consider such a thing, you ask? Temporary insanity is the only answer that comes to mind.
The misadventure started with Casey who was scheduled for a vet re-check Saturday morning and her routine vaccines. So the plan was for me and Sophie to take Casey to the vet (Bryan was out of town). Easy.
Well if I’m taking Casey for shots, I really should take Romeo so they’re both on the same schedule for vaccines.
Then I decided while I’m at it, I might as well take Bipp the kitten in for his exam and vaccines. Luckily Tess is up-to-date, so she can stay home.
So there I was, Saturday morning, getting ready to get Sophie, Casey, Romeo, and little Bipp out the door to the vet. I quickly realized, What the hell was I thinking?!
The misadventure started before I left the garage. I picked up Little Bipp to gently place him in the carrier. He would have nothing to do with that and squirmed for his life to break free. I try again, and this time, the little fellow jumped out of my arms, hopped the side fence, and ran into the backyard and into the house to hide. Enter me, running after Bipp with two dogs and Sophie waiting in the car. I finally grabbed Bipp, closed the garage door and stuffed the cat in the carrier.
Luckily the vet is only five minutes away. Bipp is meowing in fear the entire time. Even Sophie told him to be quiet.
We arrive at the vet and there’s me with Casey and Romeo on leashes in one hand, Bipp in a carrier in the other hand, and Sophie is walking directly in front of me. I gave Sophie the very important job of holding the animals’ paperwork and bringing that into the office. I think that was key to Sophie’s success in this trip – give her an important job. And she really did great.
We get in the office, narrowly escaped a pit bull patient, the dogs are trembling for dear life and Bipp is meowing like crazy. This little circus of mine is waiting in the room for the exam and shots when what happens next? That’s right, Sophie has to pee.
By the time we’re ready to go, I’m sweating, covered in animal hair and in need of a Xanax. I shell out nearly half our tax refund for this little adventure and the animals get a clean bill of health. The vet techs are looking at me like I’m a lunatic as I attempt to bring my crew back to the car.
I again gave Sophie the very important job of carrying the dogs’ Sentinel medication (heart-worm and flea prevention pills). She took this very seriously; wouldn’t even let me see inside the bag.
We all made it safe and sound to the car, where I headed to a drive-through Starbucks to reward myself with an iced latte and Sophie with a chocolate milk. By the time we get home, the dogs are as tired as I am (and it’s not even 11 a.m.). I learned my lesson. I won’t attempt this again.