How can seven pounds scare a person to the point of peeing one's pants? No, I am not talking about the weight gain over Christmas holidays, but rather Claire (the names have been changed to protect the innocent), the Siamese cross (and she was pissed) cat I dealt with today. Really, it wasn't going to be a big deal, I just needed some pee, that is all. Claire was all nice and unassuming to start with, but when it was decided to give her some subcutaneous fluids, that is when all hell broke loose. Thank God she was declawed, but that didn't stop her from getting her back claws into my hand. "I love my job, I love my job", I said under my breath as I tried to give some needed fluids. It kind of reminded me of The Exorcist - head spinning and such, but at least there was no vomit...yet. She was going to be uncooperative, to put it nicely. "Let's put her back in the kennel to chill out," was my plan of action. One half an hour later she was the picture of perfect, purring and stretched out in pleasure. A butterfly needle was what I had up my sleeve - an ingenious piece of medical equipment - a needle at the end of a long hose so that you don't have to be anywhere close to the crazy end. The fluids were administerd, albeit with a few jumps (from her and from me). Now, I will pray for the pee Gods. If she doesn't give me a gift of urine, I will have to knock her out to get the golden juice. Maybe I will pee in the jar for her, it might be easier.