Cat Torture?

I had to take my adorable kitty to the vet today. Actually, Caroline is almost 10 years old, and fairly overweight. The poor cat was terrified. She saw me get the leash (I haven't mastered the cat carrier in 10 years) and fled under a king size bed, huddled against the wall, only her yellow eyes glowing. When I tricked her into coming down by opening a can of tuna fish, she found herself trapped, harnassed, and carried to the car. She mewed all the way to the vet, shedding copiously, mewed all the time she was at the vet, and continued to shed, and then finished the ignominy by peeing on the counter while I was paying the bill. I felt terribly for her, but still. Here I was in my work clothes, not wanting to get this damned wet cat anywhere near me, and her back claws are out and getting hooked in the threads of my blouse. What a scene. When we got home she immediately lay down in the center of the kitchen floor and started to clean herself. I suspect I will get a cold shoulder when I get home again.

Just wait -- more indignities are to follow. My fat cat is going on a kitty version of Atkins. First, it was heart problems, and kitty heart workups, including ultrasounds and kitty stress tests, then it was heart medication, cut into quarters to get the right dose, now it's kitty Atkins. This should be fun -- NOT!