Hello-

Having adopted two little boy cats from a <clueless> neighbor over Memorial
Day, it was time for the big snip, the de-nutting, the worst day of their
young lives.  Since I had been the one to take them to TED for their shots,
I decided Daddy got to handle this one.

I departed gaily for work, having remembered to take up the food and water
(forgot the first time and had to reschedule), and gotten out the big
carrier and lined it with a new towel that didn't smell like the vets'
office.  Evidently the kittens  - Bear, who is a buff and orange little guy
built like a bulldog and Davey, who is solid buff with stripey areas and
spotty areas, a "slice cat" (long and skinny) - remembered the carrier and
the nasty things that happened when they got in it.  Dear old Dad didn't
execute well, trying first the "one at a time" method (and digging them out
from under the couch repeatedly for his lapse in judgement) before tossing
them both in at the same time and slamming the door.  When they got to the
vets and were weighed, Bear weighed a full pound more than his brother!  I
can't believe these guys are from the same litter, they are so different in
every way.

Anyway, at the end of the day Dad got pick-up duty.  By the time I got home
they had settled down and were both snoozing in their favorite places -
Davey on the footstool and Bear in my chair.  I leaned over and said "Did my
Bear have a bad day?"  Bear looked up at me and put both paws over his eyes
and whimpered a little mew.

What a little sweetie.