One second, you have a sweet little house cat. The next, you're trying to stuff four mysteriously extendable legs through a tiny door while they cling to the sides like their nine lives depend on it.
You can buy the fanciest carrier on the market, fill it with their favorite blanket, leave it casually sitting out for weeks, and toss a few treats inside. It doesn't matter. The second your cat realizes you actually want them to go into it, the betrayal begins.
First comes the innocent approach. You pick them up like everything is totally normal and slowly start moving toward the carrier. Unfortunately, cats have a sixth sense for this stuff. Before you know it, four paws have somehow become 17, they're clinging to anything within reach, and you're questioning every decision that led you to this meowment.
Then there are the cats who simply disappear. Five minutes ago, they were screaming for breakfast directly into your face. Now that it's time for their vet appointment? Apparently, you have never owned a cat in your life. Check under the bed, behind the couch, inside the closet, and possibly another dimension.
The real insult comes when you finally get them inside and endure the saddest little meows imaginable all the way to the vet. Then you get home, open the carrier…and suddenly they're voluntarily sitting in it. Excuse us?!
For cats, the carrier isn't a convenient mode of transportation. It's a suspicious plastic prison that must be avoided at all costs. They'll run, hide, grow several extra limbs, and unleash enough cattitude to make you consider canceling the appointment altogether. And somehow, despite all the hissing, hiding, and dramatic cries for help, it's usually the pawrent who ends up needing a nap afterward.