I thought with two bells on his collar that he wouldn't be able to sneak up on anything, but I guess he is really quiet when in stealth mode.
By the way, we finally gave him an official name. It's Buddy, though he still comes to anything, especially if it involves food.
Today I'm going to try to take him to the vet for his annual shots. Lil doesn't want her puppy to catch anything from the cat when they come for Christmas. Not that the cat will want to have anything to do with her dog I'm sure.
The above was written before our vet adventure. Here's how it went.
I bought a new pet carrier hoping the cat would go into one that didn't have the smell of other animals on it. That was wishful thinking. Even with a rug over it hiding the door, he wouldn't go near it. I put his favorite treats in it and still no luck. I tried to put him in but my two arms against his four sets of claws just didn't have a chance.
So I went to the vet and got a sedative, and just like last time, I crushed it and mixed it with a few drops of milk. At first he was curious about the bowl and licked the pink milk. But it must be bitter and he walked away. So then I started the process of dipping my finger in the mixture, wiping it on his feet, waiting for him to lick it off, and then wiping on more. It took about thirty minutes for him to lick enough to start getting woozy. When he couldn't walk a straight line, I picked up his front end and Hubby pushed his back end, and we got all but his tail in the crate. By then he was snarling a little and fighting with everything he had left. It's amazing how an adrenalin rush can energize a drugged cat.
He meowed a pitiful, drunk meow all the way to the vet's office, but once inside, he was meek as a lamb. When I picked up the sedative, I told the vet how difficult he was, and there he was being totally submissive and making a liar out of me.
Now we're home, and he is sleeping off the sedative in the office. We tried letting him loose in the garage, but decided it was too dangerous in his condition.