Taking Two Kittens to the Vet:

1. Pick up kittens.  Set them in carrier.
2. Drive them to vet’s office while they mew cutely.
3. Sit back and smile proudly while entire vet staff oohs and ahs over them, declaring them in perfect health.
4. Drive home.  Let kittens out of carrier and watch them scamper off, smiling at the sheer cuteness of it all.

Taking Two Grown Cats to the Vet:

1. Arrange with sister two weeks in advance to assist with transport.  Rearrange work schedule to give self extra time.
2. On the morning of the appointment, act as normal as possible around vet-patients-to-be so as not to suggest any sort of vet visit in the near future.  Vet visit?  What vet visit?  Take extra long time eating cereal, watch The Today Show like always.
3. Forty-five minutes before the appointment, sneak into the hall closet and, quiet as a mouse, pull out the cat carriers.  Open them so they’re ready.  Return to watching The Today Show like always.  Vet visit?  What vet visit?
4. Thirty minutes before the appointment, answer phone call from sister.  “I’m turning onto your street.”  “Okay.  Stay outside until I call you.”
5. Notice that cats, who were scrambling through the house like lunatics moments before, have suddenly disappeared without a trace.  Hear a pin drop.
6. Grab the emergency turkey lunch meat from the fridge. 
7. Search in all the usual hiding spots: under the bed behind the winter sweaters, in the shoe closet behind the cowboy boots, in the left middle bathroom drawer behind the saline solution, inside the washing machine.  Spot one of the culprits, staring from the farthest point under the guest bed, three inches beyond arms’ reach.
8. Reassure yourself with the knowledge that she’s the dumb one.  Reach a bit of turkey under the bed.  “Have some turkey, Rosie!  Come on, pookie-wookie!”
9. When she inches forward, inch the turkey forward, over and over, until she’s finally within nabbing distance.
10. Nab her while you can, by the fold over the neck so she can’t kick and scratch with her hind claws (which she manages to do anyway).  Run her to her carrier and slam her inside the cage doors, ignoring her frantic protests.  Captured!
11. Call sister with update.  “One down.  But I can’t find Flo.  I made need a back-up.  Hang tight.”
12. Locate Flo hiding behind the back of the couch in the manner of an ostrich, her rear end sticking out in a tell-tale lump.  Ring sister again and speak in whispers.  “I found her.  Come in quietly and be ready with the carrier.”
13. Sister enters quietly.  Slide couch away from wall.  Ease toward Flo, who has left herself with no room to run.  Congratulate yourself for raising dumb cats all around.  Nab her while you can.  “BRING THE CARRIER!  BRING THE CARRIER!”
14. Sister whips the carrier over.  Stuff Flo into carrier limb by limb, each of which rakes a red path through the tender skin on the inside of your arm.  “ZIP UP THE CASE!  ZIP UP THE CASE!”
15. Ignore the scrambling and haul the carriers out of the house to the truck, using every available muscle for Rosie, who weighs the equivalent of a toddler.
16. Ignore the ROEWing on the way to the vet’s office, until the ROEWing changes tone to the more desperate ROEW I POOED just as the foul smell wafts from Rosie’s side of the back seat.
17. Curse at each red light, which only prevents swift arrival at vet’s office despite polluted car air.  Hold breath.
18. Pull into vet’s office and leap out of car, gasping for air.
19. Lug carriers into vet’s office.  “Er, Rosie’s had a bit of an accident, if you could just clean her off before her exam.  It’s okay, sweetheart, it happens to the best of us.” 
20. Watch Rosie get whisked off to have her hind end sprayed and shaved and her ample figure weighed.  Blush when the vet tech announces cheerfully:  “21.4 pounds.”  ROEW!
21. Try to get back in the good graces of Flo, who huddles in the corner of the carrier shaking like the end of the world is nigh.  Smile proudly when she, ten pounds lighter than her twin sister, gets a clean bill of health.
22. Nod seriously while vet advises politely on methods for cat weight loss and how you shouldn’t be embarrassed.  “It’s okay, it happens to the best of us.”
23. Slink out.  Ignore the ROEWing on the way home, until the ROEWing changes tone to the more desperate ROEW I POOED just as the foul smell wafts from Rosie’s side of the back seat.
24. Rush the (now one soiled) carriers into the house and free the captives.  Watch as the captives flee to the farthest corners of the house, Rosie particularly embarrassed about her bald hind end and dragging it on the floor in protest.  Hose out and sanitize carriers (and floor) so they’re ready for next year’s appointment.
25. Flop down on couch and take a nap.