Cats rule the Internet. They are some of the cutest, funniest, sweetest creatures you have ever seen. But then there are cats like my cat, who I’m pretty sure steals my breath when I’m sleeping. At her best, I picture her voice to sound like the comic book nerd from the Simpsons; uppity, condescending, and bored.
At her worst, she can act much like the Tasmanian Devil; spitting, drooling, incoherent, and insane. Especially when you try to get her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.
She’s not what you would consider a “normal” cat. For example, most cats go crazy over laser pointers. My jerk cat realizes that I’m controlling the laser pointer and gives me a look like, “Uh, do you think I’m stupid? I see that you want me to chase that stupid light just so you can laugh at me. Forget you, I’m gonna lick my butt instead.”
Cat treats usually make cats foam at the mouth in excitement. My cat turns her nose up at them, and again, decides to lick her butt. I’ve purchased hundreds of dollars worth of cat toys, including a $200 cat tree, yet she prefers to roll around and play in old coupon books I get in the mail.
Meet my evil weirdo
She can either look like this:
Or she can look like this:
Most of these odd behaviors aren’t really an issue. But when I have to get my cat into a cat carrier… forget it. I still have scars from the numerous times I had to shove her into one of those Draconian contraptions and take her to the vet. Oh, did I mention my cat is also psychic? I don’t even have to pull out the cat carrier to have her run for the hills. I just have to THINK about getting her into one and she runs to hide under the bed. And once I actually have a grip on her, it’s like trying to hold onto a wet Marlin that also has razor-sharp teeth and claws. Sometimes I have to take a shot of whiskey afterwards just to calm down.
In all my suffering, I decided to head to the googles and see if anyone could offer me some sage wisdom on how to get crack-head cats into a carrier. I tried every bit of advice I found, from leaving out the cat carrier to get her used to it (she hid for days shaking in the closet) to coaxing her in with cat treats (as I mentioned before, she doesn’t like them) to putting items in there she likes, such as toys (she was too busy hiding to give a crap). Just as I was about to give up and purchase full body armor to protect myself, I stumbled onto this handy-dandy little tip (scroll down to “Part 2 of 2”):
On the day I had to take my cat to the vet and test out this new method, my body went into all its usual physical preparations. My palms starting sweating, heart palpitations began, my colon seized up, and I felt like I was going to puke. I set the cat carrier in the position suggested in the tutorial and got the first-aid kit ready to bandage my post-battle wounds. I snatched up my cat in the position suggested and simply dropped her into the box. I couldn’t believe that it actually worked! My adrenaline stopped pumping immediately and I started shaking with relief, although some of that shaking was from me also laughing hysterically like a mad man.
It…WORKS. And it has worked since that very day. The trick is that the cat cannot fight getting into the cat carrier from that position. They can’t splay their legs and arms out to wriggle their way out, and they certainly can’t fight gravity. Within seconds your nightmare is over.
So there you have it! The quick and easy way to get your cat from Hades into their cat carrier with minimal damage to your health, house, or sanity!