My cats are now the proud owners of passports. Well, maybe not so proud. Possibly very indifferent. But I am not. I am a very proud owner of cats with passports.
And a very relieved owner. This was the first time the two of them had been outside the flat since they arrived here two and a half years ago. Except for those sneaky moments in the early days when they ran out of the front door and across the landing. Out of curiosity. And then straight back in. Out of fright.
They came to me from a family who needed to get rid of them fairly speedily due to an illness in one of the children. They were already adult cats. But had thus far never left their first home. We had a two-hour drive back and the journey was horrendous. They were both petrified. And cried all the way. The female spent the first two days under my bed. I was devastated.
When she came round and let me comfort her, she was adorable. But still very edgy. Thus when I needed her to see a vet, I organised a home visit. And this has worked well until now. When he's away. And unable to do the vaccinations and the passport.
Time is pressing. They have to have the vaccinations and paperwork in order three weeks before our return date. So I bit the bullet and took them to the nearest vet. Just around the corner. With the help of a friend.
The vet was lovely. And they were wonderful. Calm, curious. Charming. Not even a simper when they were injected. I was so very proud. All that stress and worry for nothing...
The journey home will of course be a different story. But I feel a tad less trepidatious. For now at least.
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