Sean told me that the place he took Mister on Tuesday was nice, but I was really not prepared for just how nice it was. When I picked up Mister, I walked up to a large, two story building covered in glass on the outside. I walked in and the bright, clean two-story interior was simultaneously comforting and awe-inspiring. The many-feet-high-taller-than-me rock water feature in the corner soothed my jangled traveling nerves, and the very large, bright pieces of what looked to be original artwork of cats and dogs on the walls gave just the right touch of whimsy to keep you from feeling that the place was too sterile or too serious. It didn't hurt that in the far corner, I noticed our former pet-sitter texting on her phone. She was there picking up her hyperthyroid kitty as well, so that put me completely at ease to see and talk with her also.
The receptionist called my name and led me down the hallway to a really nice consultation/examining room with a built-in bench as the seating. After a few minutes, I could hear Mister heading my way. I know all our kitties' voices by heart, and it brought tears to my eyes to hear Mister's plaintive little meowing. He seemed startled and confused, but none the worse for wear. They hit the highlights of the safety precautions again, and we were on our way.
I got him all settled in to his seat with his seat belt on, then spent the next hour and a half trying to figure out what kind of music he likes. (So far, we've discovered that his favorite album is Miles Davis' Bitches Brew, and unfortunately, I didn't have anything comparable in the car.) I already had in the Bend it Like Beckham soundtrack, so I decided to keep that. I figured he'd like the pulsing beats and slightly cacophonous sound of the Middle Eastern and Indian music. He did, for the most part (which he communicated by not meowing for a few minutes), but I was surprised to find that he seemed to resonate most with the one operatic piece on the album. So I played that for him twice.
It was good pulling into the driveway with Mister safely in tow. It's good having him in the basement now, too. It's sad though, to know that I'm only allowed to spend 45 minutes a day with him, and he just doesn't understand that. I know it bums him out that he has to be isolated for two weeks, even though he has Mango for company. So far, he's barely seemed to register that she is there.
At least it's just for two weeks. And at least he's here, safe in his own home.
Right where he belongs.
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