Sheer Lunacy

Yesterday, the vet came round to give Luna a long (like 12 years) overdue  immunisation and the idea was to give her a general check-up, prior to her rehoming.  At first Luna did her appealing, slightly-slutty-with-visitors routine and even sat on the vet's lap.  You would think he might know better than to trust this.  When he tried to look at her teeth or examine her, she turned into a large,very sharp eel.

We still had to give her the shot.  I say we.  It was more him really.  After Luna drew blood from the vet (he really should have known better), I volunteered my gardening gloves.  With one glove apiece, and a large towel, we got the squirming muscular mass of claws in a corner and in two attempts, gave her about three-quarters of the shot.  "Well, as you see, she's very strong for her age," I said, after apologising for the bloodshed.

She is currently having her last troll in the garden and I'm washing out her litter tray.  If all goes to plan (all being a rather sinister drugging and then shoving her in the basket), we'll be on the move before 7pm.  As with most things at the moment, I won't believe it till it happens.  She's got about half an hour until I trick her with some cream and a cat tranquiliser.  I have my gardening gloves at the ready.  I'm going to miss her.