Thermometer goes where?

I had to take Mouser to the doctor yet again today. Nothing nearly as visibly scary as last time, and I had planned this trip a bit more carefully.
Something I never dreamt of doing a year ago, but it was Dr Livingstone's suggestion: I bought a cat carrier. I went down to the local store where they have everything. And I mean everything; from bikes for your flea circus to critical reef tank apparatus. I wanted one without those metal bar things on makeshift hinges. I could never get the cat to stay in the box when I'd be fumbling about trying to get the darn cagy bits to stay in some sort of orderly locked albeit secure position. So I got, what I call, the beauty case model. It hinges in the middle and locks with a simple latch & slide.

Mouser was pottering about indoors, so I arranged everything for a swift catnapping. Basket open, blanket with Mousersmell on the bottom. Keys in the door to lock up. Wallet, kitteh passport and ear jewelry aka handsfree set already paired and in place. Keys in the ignition, familiar towel draped over my leather seats so Velvet Claws can't scratch.
Putting the cat in the carrier was childs play. But then I had to lock it properly. Didn't want to risk it popping open at the most inconvenient time or place. The darn thing wouldn't close. In the shop it was really easy, it was fast shut in the bat of an eye. Why didn't it work now?
Mouser's panic yelping made me nervous and my paws were getting sweaty too. Then I saw the box was out of its original shape because Mouser was trying the Houdini Escape Impression and the sides didn't interlock where they were supposed to. Then kitteh suddenly setteled down, the two halves finally snapped into place and we were off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Cat.

There were some people in the waiting room. A mother and child with their rodents and vermin. All caged up separately. A white rabbit (minus hat), a hamster and a 15 year old deaf Terrier. The owner gleefully mentioned if it wasn't as deaf as a post it would probably would have started yapping at Mouser's whaling. I replied if it wasn't for the carrier, Mouser would probably scratch the little bugger's eyes out. Funnily enough if I google "Houdini escape cage" all the links I get are hamster related. Just fancy that!

Then a woman with a caged pigeon entered. She had a shelter for those wounded and/or stray excrement dive bombers . The one she had with her had a ring that was too tight and it's poor little paw was desperate for some good blood circulation. She was there to have it removed. "These pigeon breeders disgust me. Once a pigeon has a slight problem, they discard it and it has to fend for itself." She also had a huge Dalmation, but it was still in the car. "He won't come out. He's scared". She pointed to the window, her car was parked right beside it and I looked out. A huge sad looking dog on the passenger seat stared back at me.
Good thing it was still in the car, Mouser would have wetted that blanket in a flash.
Then some pensioners with an old little dog came in and a young boy with his father and a striped adorable kitten.

The vet ushered us into the consultation room. The examination table was strewn with hairs. "I'm sorry for the mess, I'll clean this away first. That bunny lost some hair" Good thing it wasn't an angora, we would have had a nice warm sweater there.
So she had a look at Mouser's head. "The swelling is a lymphoid infection, it'll have to have some antibiotics. I'll see if Mouser's running a temperature." Her assistant wasn't there, so I had to hold Velvet Claws when the thermometer had to go in.
Cue lolcat: "Thermometer goes where?"
Kitteh made some objection noises when we had to hold her down, but I think it was surprise that made it stop and puss fell eerily silent. I guess this was the moment of insertion.
She then gave Mouser a shot of antibiotics. I hope the swelling goes down.

Cue vet:"What a sweet little cat, so adorable and calm. If it wasn't for my own cat, I'd say this was the nicest cat I have ever seen".
I don't know what kind of cool drugs are lying about in her surgery, but she must be on something.
We lovingly put her back in the carrier, without any noisy complaint whatsoever. Then the vet told me about her cat's ongoing attempts to eat her canary. Think Sylvester and Tweety.
Speaking of more loony tunes:
Act two of the opéra bouffe yelping in the car, Mouser even tried to burrow out of the carrier and gnaw through the plastic slots in the side.

She's very sedate now. Just like last time. Purring and plucking, she's on my lap while I'm blogging as we speak. Even having the intermittent nap and dream (with full blown ear, whisker and paw movements). She'd been miaowing ever since we got back in the car for the drive home and she didn't even leap out of the carrier when I opened it.
Ahh, look at it there, so sweet. Content cat. Our little cuty mice catcher.