Satan’s Playthings

Back in April I went to Manhattan, and had to board my cats at my old vet in Sunnyvale. Now, I no longer live near that office, but they’ve dealt with my two critters since they were precocious 9-week-olds, so, they, uh, understand the wild side.

To say that Cougar is difficult would be an understatement. Let’s just call him spirited, shall we?

Anyway, back in April, I had to board them, and I hadn’t been to the office in a while and in the interim there had been a massive turnover…only one of the vets remained and she wasn’t in the office when I arrived, so I had to deal with the new staff (one of which was bleeding, half her forearm was black and blue after having been bitten by the office parrot – portent?). Anyway, it was interesting, as all things when Cougar is involved tend to be. Think bobcat with a thorn in his butt, and you’ll have an idea of how he behaves at the vet’s office.

So I’m going to have to leave town next week, so I called to arrange boarding them again. The call began something like this:

CC: Cherry Chase. May I help you?

Me: Yeah, I need to board my cats.

CC: Oh goody! What are their names.

Me: Cougar and Fenix.

CC: I KNEW IT WAS YOU!!!

Okay, I didn’t quite know how to take that. Seeing as she’d only met me (and my boys) once, and I’m one of hundreds of customers, something said or done must have stuck in her mind. Cougar makes quite the impression. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall after the call ended so that I could hear what she said to the others. Or maybe not (: