Tuesday, April 21, 2015
I have no experience with cats, other than a front-porch-here's-a-bit-of-kibble kind of friendship.
We visited the vet today. Well, first it took ten minutes to squish Bro into a borrowed transport box. I felt horrible about that; he felt worse. A chatty chap, he was silent as the grave on our road trip.
I had the checkbook out, ready to spring for neutering, vaccinations, whatever it is cats need. I asked them to scan for a chip, figuring a chip was out of the realm of possibilities, but good-animal stewardship and all.
He had a chip. So Bro, still in his cardboard box, and I waited in the examination room for half an hour as the vet's office attempted to contact the owner.
The first thing that sprang to mind was "Do no harm." Did I do harm? What if they couldn't locate the owner, what if protocol demanded the vet call Animal Control on my little cat in the cardboard box?
If we saw the truck in time, could we make a break for it? I actually considered this.
Turns out, Bro was neutered and vaxxed by a rescue organization. But the chip didn't have a referring phone number for the current owner. So I brought him home, not home-home, but my home. He took off in a huff.
Pretty sure he belongs to someone in the tri-street area. Hope he forgives me. Hope he comes back. We both like movies. Bro doesn't shed, talk too much, laugh too loud, pick fights, break wind, or steal my popcorn. He's the perfect date.
Labels: altadena cats