It's Sunday afternoon and we have returned from our camping trip. Within minutes of pulling into the driveway, we see "Mr. Kitty". He runs over to us, yelling and scolding. (I guess I'm starting to bond with the little guy--I'm actually happy to see him.)
Before our trip we had been pretty confident that we would be able to capture the little one, so we set up an appointment for a Monday morning checkup and neuter at the veterinarian. Of course, doing so requires a bit of deception--a trail of irresistable morsels leading to the interior of a kitty carrier. We wait. We talk to "Mr." We play with him, and then he gets hungry. Hungry enough to follow the trail, and the door to the kitty carrier closes behind him.
A bewildered cry and huge "kitty eyes" look out at us. The vet cautioned us--"no matter how mournful his cry, even if he wets or soils the carrier, do not let him out." So we place the carrier-enclosed Mr. Kitty in our garage, turn out the lights, and go into the house, praying he will settle down, and sleep, and forgive us.
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