Terry Flanagan: When Pet Blessings Aren’t Enough

I don’t know who hates the trip to the vet the most—the cats, us, or the unfortunate vet who takes care of our cats, Guinness and Harp.

My son suggested the names Guinness and Harp because one cat is black and the other is tan. He was actually thinking of calling the tan cat Bass because he was used to a Black and Tan being made with Bass ale. But Harp had enough problems without being named after a fish. Think Johnny Cash and A Boy Named Sue.

Both cats are almost seven years old and are as different as night and day. We got them from Anderson Animal Shelter as kittens, but they are not from the same litter. Guinness came home with us around Thanksgiving and Harp had to wait at the shelter until after New Year’s because of some sinus infection.

We suspect that doing hard time in solitary may have contributed to some of Harp’s problems socializing. He’s had difficulty adjusting to being around people. He’s also had to deal with Guinness assuming the role of the dominant cat since Guinness got here about six weeks before Harp. We were hoping to avoid this situation by bringing both cats home at the same time, but the folks at Anderson refused to allow us to take Harp back and forth for treatment. So he stayed in a cage by himself for almost six weeks while the infection ran its course.

It has taken time, but Harp has slowly gotten more used to being around people. The vet, however, is a different story, although he has gotten a little better with the vet too. He no longer needs to wear the Hannibal Lecter face mask and straight jacket during visits. We take the cats to Valley Animal Hospital and the staff and Dr, Humphrey have been great. We do give them plenty of warning though before bringing Harp in so they can have the SWAT team ready.

Harp is generally quiet on the ride to the vet, although you can tell he’s not happy. Guinness cries the whole way there, but once he gets there, he’s usually pretty docile and cooperative. Harp, on the other hand, growls all the time he is at the vet and hisses whenever anyone, including me or Dorothy, comes near. We scold him and he settles down a bit, but he is by no means a model patient. The vet usually takes Harp first and weighs him and examines him as quickly as possible before his limited patience runs out.

I don’t know if Harp will ever be relaxed at the vet. He’s always been a hyper cat. At home he still patrols the house like he’s expecting an invasion. But he does so less frequently and with less intensity than he used to. In fact, there’s been a remarkable change in him over the time he’s been here. Friends who stop by have noticed, too.

When Harp first came here he was very aloof. Most cats are to some degree. But Harp would avoid any contact with people. He seemed more like a wild animal than a pet. Now he comes to the door to greet people when they come over and allows them to pet him. He used to bolt when we attempted to pick him up. Now he‘s relaxed while being held, at least for a few minutes before he wants to be set down. His relationship with Guinness has improved too. They occasionally fight, but it’s mostly play.

I credit Dorothy with having the patience and understanding to work with him and get him adjusted to living here. She’s always been good with animals and seems to understand what they want even though I can't figure out what they're trying to tell us. And it’s not just our pets. I remember going door to door with her on one campaign and when one guy answered his door, his cat ran out. He told Dorothy that the cat wouldn’t come back and that he’d be gone for the rest of the morning. Dorothy went over, picked up the cat, and brought him back to the man.

I don’t know what it is. I feed the cats, clean the litter, buy their toys, and play with them. But they always come to Dorothy for attention or when they want something. They seem to know she’ll figure it out. I think trust her too. Whatever it is, it seems to have worked on Harp. Not that he’s perfect. But he’s come a long way from where he started.