Cat's and Dog's

This is why I hate the vets office

At first, all I could remember was the black insides of my eyelids, then I remembered the crash. I snapped upright, my eyes flying open as my breathing spiked and I looked desperately around. I was a room, a room very familiar to me. This was the place we'd taken my former pets to get spayed or... neutered. I desperately lifted my leg, pretending to all the world I was just a cat licking itself, totally normal. Certain organs were no longer there. I wish I could say I responded calmly and pondered in the lack of scarring, but that'd be a lie. Instead, I went into full on panic mode. I tried to dash away, instinctively attempting to run from my problem, but I hit a wall I couldn't see. I threw myself in every direction, but I was apparently inside a glass box.

Hooray.

I was still panicking and hitting myself against the sides of the box when the vet came in. The scent hit me, familiar but completely alien at the same time. A lot like the scent of the werewolves. I hit the glass even harder, desperately trying to get away from this strange person who had likely cut off my body parts and, at the same time, likely wanted to use me like everyone else did. I heard her chuckle, and the sound of a rolling chair scraping across the tile floor was followed by the sound of her sitting down. I kept hitting the box, hoping to at least make a crack. "Would you stop that? Geez, I thought Lunas had the most common sense of our kind; your going to give yourself a migraine. Look, they won't spay you while I'm here, I've made sure of it." I froze mid dash. Spay? Me? But they only spayed girls! I'm a guy! Why would she think that would be reassuring?

I resumed my attack on the wall, ignoring her concerned eyes watching me. "Look, I get that you aren't a part of a pack, and that likely means that you haven't been treated well, but surely you can understand that I'm trying to help you?" I turned and hissed at her, my back arching and my eyes slitting. I was confused, terrified, and this woman was unfamiliar. She smelled of forests, of the way the air moves underneath you as you run, of the way sunlight feels while it brushes against ones fur; and I didn't like not knowing what the heckfire that meant. She wore a white lab coat, which outlined the black shirt and jeans she wore underneath. Not what I thought of as typical vet attire, but I wasn't focusing on that at the time.

She sighed, leaning back and closing her eyes. Then she straightened and snapped her eyes open suddenly, giving me a stare that had me frozen in place. "Look, ma'am, if you want to pretend you're feral, go ahead and do so, but not with me. I lost a patient today because some idiot new kid couldn't understand that the rule against amputating without me present is there for a reason. Now I have a feral liger with one missing limb and a lost sense of humanity. I have no clue how I'm going to fix that! But I am not going to waste an iota of patience on you that I don't absolutely have to. Do you understand me?!" She was quiet, her voice never going higher than what one would use in a normal conversation. But her voice was deadly serious.

I didn't move a muscle. She terrified me too much for me too even twitch a whisker. "Good, now I'm going to open the box and give you a bath, okay honey? Then you are going to shift back, explain who tried to rape you, and tell me where you live. After that, I'll drive you home and we'll get you set up in a nearby pack. Okay?" I didn't even blink. For some reason she was convinced I was a girl. And she didn't have a single doubt. And what was that thing about calling me a Luna? Was that a cat species? She took my lack of motion as a yes and she reached over, pulling the box out of the counter. Apparently it slid about six inches into the counter, negating the need for an opening. Smart for them, and annoying for me.

She grabbed my still frozen form in gloves hands, then set me in a sink full of water. She scrubbed everywhere, and I mean everywhere making me more uncomfortable than I ever had been in my life. When she finally pulled me out of sink, I felt more naked than I ever had in my life, and I got the feeling she wasn't even half done. She measured me, tested my bones, and even tested my tail. Then she tried to inspect my posterior. I attempted to scramble away, desperate to keep some semblance of normality in this messed up, accursed place, but she easily caught me by the scruff of the neck and help me up; checking the last place I had that she hadn't yet inspected. I felt abused, as though someone had invaded every last piece of my privacy. But she wasn't done doing that yet.