Mercury has finally moved out of retrograde, but not before inflicting some last humiliations on Chez Wandering Cat.

It started Saturday.  Both Rupert and Burton had their annual check up at the vet bright and early Saturday morning. Our vet is fantastic, but she’s also a 30 minute drive away in the same town Mom lives in. But she’s so fantastic, it’s totally worth the drive.

And since she’s just around the corner from Mom’s, I asked Dave to drive us up, then drop me off at Mom’s so I could do some quilting. This was a big ask. Dave has been a daily commuter  (min. 1.5 hours each way) for the last decade, so he doesn’t like drive if he doesn’t have to. Having two wailing cats in the car just makes driving that much more fun. The appointment was also first thing in the morning, so it meant no sleeping in for him either. But he dutifully agreed.

We were up with the sun, got the boys all packed and off we went without too much hassle (other than the caterwauling from the back seat.). We finally arrive at the vet, and go to sign in with the receptionist… except our appointment isn’t on Saturday… it’s TUESDAY!!!

I got both a reminder phone call and email, so how I managed to screw that up, I don’t know… except to say that is classic Mercury in retrograde. Unfortunately, they were booked right up with no room to sneak the boys in. And since it was most definitely MY mistake, I wasn’t going to insist.

I hung my head in shame and apologized both to Dave and the cats for the unnecessary car ride. Dave dropped me off at Mom’s as planned (if a little early), and headed home with the boys.

About an hour later, I texted him to check on them all.

Me: “How was the drive home?”

Him: “Not great. Burton dropped a bomb about half-way there. Stank me right out of the car. I was gagging the rest of the way home.”

Me: “Oh no… I’m so sorry. I hope it wasn’t too messy to clean up.”

Him: “It was solid enough… but he sat in it. I just finished cleaning him up. I think I got it all, but it’s hard to tell with all that fur.”

Now for those who don’t know Dave, that is a HUGE thing for him. He’s one of those people who do not do well with bodily fluids of any sort. I.E., he’s been known to throw a pile of paper towels on an accident and leave it for me because he just can’t stand to clean it up.

Anyway, when I got home,  Burton still needed a little clean-up (though Dave did a pretty decent job). It was pretty dry, so I figured a bath would be the easiest route to go. Burton did NOT agree, and I have a few new holes to prove it. So I gave up, and got the scissors…

Poor Burt.

Finally, Tuesday comes. I wrangled the boys by myself (Dave was working), and we arrived at the vet on time, on the right day, with NO problems! (and nary a caterwaul either).

Their check-ups went well thought Burton is too “robust” and needs to lose a little weight. I told the vet all about his poopy adventure the Saturday before, and said I was thinking of keeping his pantaloons trimmed, as it’s not the first time we’ve had to clean up his posterior. She offered to give him a trim with the clippers, thinking it would be easier than with my scissors…

Once again Burton did not agree. No holes this time but….

There wasn’t much pantaloon trimming… and now he looks a little like a baboon from behind! Lol.

At least fur grows back…

“Oh the indignity… I hate you all…”