And yet, here we are. Friends of the Queen Beast, she is back and better than ever. Her good behavior lasted just long enough for Justin to take us out of consideration for My Cat From Hell and then BAM. Jmeoww's back, y'all. Miss Jmeoww, if you're nasty.
The worst of the worst started two weekends ago, when Justin was preparing her for her trip to the vet (vaccines, flea shot, lobotomy). As you all well know the vet will not see her unless she has taken a sedative. Which I still call bullshit on because it is their one job. But I digress. So Justin was going to be Saint Justin as per usual and let me sleep in while he tricked Jmeoww into eating sedative-laced treats.
Okay maybe sedative-laced cheese.
Well how about sedative-laced treats AND cheese all inside a pill pocket with a $100 bill as a thank you?
She was having none of that. None of it. So he very apologetically woke me up and in my half-awaken state I grabbed the pill, put Jmeoww in a leglock and tried to force the pill down her throat. She was like, no thank you to that but here's a side of IMMA CUT YOUR LEG OFF for your troubles. If I wasn't awake yet, I was after I got the bunny-kicks to my upper thigh. I lost some blood.
And then after that she went full-rainmeoww and we decided to call off the vet trip for all of our emotional well-being. So we rescheduled for the following week. Because we are adults and totally in charge here.
We were so well prepared for the next trip. Our new plan was to crush the pill and put it in some wet food, which she normally doesn't get. So we gave her wet food every few days so that she wouldn't be suspicious. I still have the same bowl that I used when she regularly got wet food as a kitten so when she sees it her tiny meowbrain explodes out of her ears and she's like THE RED BOWL IS FULL OF GLORY.
We were totally pumped. We had this.
Except. Well. She saw the pill bottle. She made eye-contact with the pill bottle and knew that something was up. By the time I was dragging my ass out of bed she was already on her way back under the bed all slinky like. When I met Justin in the kitchen with a What Did You Do Wrong face his response was, "I didn't realize she was THAT smart."
Um excuse me. I'm taking her to Vegas to count cards. Obviously she is THAT smart.
But the battle wasn't over yet. We got her out of the bedroom and shut the bedroom door so she would have nowhere to retreat to and we just knew that she was starving and she would HAVE to eat the food. She had to.
Well, instead she hid behind the bar like a wounded warrior and flinched anytime someone made a sound. At this point, my motherly instinct kicked in and I knew what I had to do. So I sat behind the bar with her and rekindled our relationship. Although I was trying to get her to trust me so that I could betray her again, it needed to be done. Once she was more comfortable, I found a piece of string that she had clearly been saving back there and we played with a goddamned piece of string for a good 25-minutes. A. Piece. Of. String. We had a couple of very scary moments filled with loud noises that Justin was making (like throwing trash away), but eventually after much trust-building she went out and ate some of the goddamned sedative-laced food.
I was so fucking proud at that moment it was like she spoke an entire sentence in English or something. But I couldn't celebrate too loudly because loud is totally scary.
By this point, it was too late for the sedative to really kick in and she didn't eat nearly enough of the drug-food but I took her to the vet anyways because it is their one job. Upon walking through the door the receptionist looked at my haggard face and at the Queen of all Veterinary Visits and said, "Oh is that my friend?!?"
Yes. Yes she is your friend. She is everyone's friend. Just don't let her see the fucking pill bottle ever again.
