Betsy's like Miranda, she just sits and waits. Mandy, oh my, that cat is a
terror to take anywhere in a carrier, especially by car. She yowls, in a
volume that ranges from low to ultrasonic at unpredictable intervals, and
she can keep it up for a incredibly long period of time.

Of course, that's reflective of their different personalities. Mandy is
far more aggressive and bossy and take-no-nonsense than Betsy; always has
been, even though she was always a housepet from the moment she was born
and Betsy was dumped on the streets to make her way as best she could.

Marble and Boyfriend must be twins!  This is exactly how BF behaves.  He
allows himself to put in the carrier, sits there but makes the most amazing
wowling noise all the way there and back.

Kitty FC is a different matter entirely.  She allows me to pick her up and
put her in the carrier, and she is absolutely silent all the way to TED's:
except she is smashing her way out all the way there :-/.  Once I only just
got there before she'd burst out of it, I kept hearing serious
carrier-destroying noises from the back seat and put my foot down.  The idea
of having a p****d off KFC loose in the car while you are driving doesn't
bear thinking about!
Last time she went to TED's, she'd been missing for a while.  I searched for
ages and finally found her in a neighbour's garden.  It says something that
I didn't need a carrier to take her, I just laid her on the back seat of the
car and broke the speed limit..

The vet's surgery was full of d*gs so I sat in the waiting room as far away
as possible from them.   She didn't see to care anyway, and this is *not*
her.   Fortunately I didn't have to wait long before we were seen as I had
wondered if she had picked up some rat poison somehow through hunting.
She had, apparently, fallen from a height, no doubt trying to be Youngkitty
again ;-) and the vet estimated her age at 18.  That's two years ago.
She was very sore for quite a while afterwards and she's gradually stayed in
the house more and more.  She will stroll out into the garden to check for
birdies if the sun shines.
She's delegated her rat/mowsie duties round the chicken huts to Boyfie.
He's not too bad at it, but he hasn't got her feral spark which says  "you
mouse, you rat - get down my throat instantly, I'm hungry"
Why would he, actually? ;-)  Two meals a day, sleep on the spare bed all day
if it's raining.
I saw Boyfie last week see two young rats pop out near my chicken run.   The
rats wanted the food I had just given to the chickens.  He watched them
intently come out within two feet of him and he could *not* be bothered to
catch them.
I had to have serious words about this, so I guess that's why I got a little
dead one in the kitchen the other day, he must have a sense of humour, don't
you think?

Tweed