The First Visit To The Vet – What You Should Expect…

The People In The White Coats – Coming To Take Me Away?

I don’t like the people in white coats. Every time I see them – I feel miserable. I just don’t get it. Why would my humans bring me to that urine-scented, fear-filled place?

The first time I went there, my humans put me into a plastic box, with a clear front door and my snuggly blanket. I’m no stranger to this box, because my humans put my food in here, since day one. I got into my box, no problem; I found a mouse to play with.

But then they put me into the Kaarrr. I meowed for about half of the journey. I scratched my paw pads raw. I was crying frantically. My human wouldn’t let me out of the carrier.

The Kaarrr seemed to roar, rather than purr. As a nine-week old kitten, this wasn’t fun! (These days, travelling to different places in the Kaarrr isn’t a big deal, I’m used to it. Let’s save that story for another day)!

Back to the burning question…Why do I have to go and see the people in white coats?
I still don’t understand. When I got to that place, my human helped me out of my plastic travelling-receptacle. I didn’t want to come out, but I wanted my human to stroke me. I was clinging to my human for dear life. Nails are great when you just don’t want to let go.

It didn’t take long for the horror to commence. Once the person in the white coat had managed to pry me from back of my human’s neck, I felt something cold and slimy pushed up my butt. I couldn’t help but flinch and meow. My human looked horrified too. What was going on? There was a lot of groping going on in that region too. I felt like screaming “Stop digging for gold, I didn’t hide any there!”

I guess it was a free-for-all, because the person in the white-coat didn’t stop there. That human just pulled at my eyes, forcing them open, pulled around my gums, messed with my ears. Talk about rubbing my fur the wrong way.

I kept trying to claw my way back to my human. As they say ‘resistance is futile’. The person in the white coat kept going. It was one thing after another: a cold disk was placed on my chest (listening to my heart and lungs – normal); a tiny metal comb scraped my fur (checked for fleas – none); prodding around my tummy (no abnormalities).

Then came the long metal probes. Let me tell you, if this is anything like an alien abduction, then I don’t want to meet ET! The first was quite big and long (identification chip), and that hurt so bad! My poor neck scruff, only mommy-cat should get to pull on it!

It didn’t end there, another probe, thankfully no way as big. It pricked my in the neck (rhinotracheitis, calicivirus and panleukopenia – a mouthful for any human, let alone kitty)!

As if this wasn’t enough, they grabbed at my back leg tightly. I struggled to free myself. The person in the white coat was persistent and they even had someone helping them. They grabbed me from all sides as they inserted another probe into my leg (syringe removing blood to test for feline immunodeficiency virus – negative).

Then finally, I’d really had enough at this point; they squirted a disguising liquid into my mouth (de-wormer), nothing like mommy-cat’s milk shakes though. The person in the white coat held my head. I think they didn’t want to spit the liquid out. Gulp! That wasn’t fun.

That was not a fun visit. I got home. I didn’t want to eat. I just wanted to sleep. I didn’t have the strength to stand on my own feet. I couldn’t even walk. I was limping on my back leg. My human scooped me up, wrapped me in a fleece, made sure that I was comfortable and then I slept for hours.

I’m not looking forward to going back there ever again!

About The Author


I’m a Tortoiseshell + Tabby = Torbie. I never met my dad, so I’m not sure what he was, but mom is a beautiful dark tabby. I love Chipmunks and my favorite toy is the Ripple Rug. I love raw turkey, but have been known to steal a nibble of my human’s donut when he’s not looking.