Hubby and I finished out the annual pet vaccinations with the mother and daughter cat duo. They're always a struggle because they're both timid, and the daughter is semi-feral. Momma cat is friendly and loves to be petted, but she can't stand to to picked up. She's certainly not a sleep-on-your-chest-and-purr-in-your-face kind of cat like the demoncat is. Daughter cat likes to be petted on her head and back, but if you reach around for her belly or she even thinks you might be trying to pick her up, she tears ass outta Dodge. Hubby managed to shoo daughter cat out from under our bed, and I pounced on her to grab her. She gave me a quick hiss, but otherwise was fine. Momma was curious about the carriers (nobody said she was the sharpest tool in the shed), and had her head end already in one, so hubby gave her substantial fanny a push, and she was in.

The ride to the vets was actually the worst part. Normally, momma cat loses control of all bodily functions, and she had ammo'd up on cat food just before being wrangled, so we expected the worst. She only peed and drooled all over herself. Daughter cat surprsingly was the poop culprit this time around. They were very nice and calm for the vet and went right back into the carriers after the shots, and a nasty sebacious gland lancing for momma. Daughter cat has adjusted so well to housecat status, that she even let us pet her again on Sunday. In previous years she'd take about a week to warm back up to us, still with a distrustful glint in her eye.

The whole process of forcefully taking the cats to the vet, and the whole prodding and poking got hubby thinking. "Maybe alien abductions are real. Maybe they're just trips to the vet for humans. Ya know, they grab you unexpectedly, beam you up to the spaceship, observe you, anal probe you, then send you back home." I think he might be on to something.

That evening we took Lily for a walk after dark. At one point, all the street lights went out. As we were looking up, we saw a shooting star. Coincidence? Aliens?