How I Convinced My Cat to Go Into the Carrier

Sometimes one needs to use trickery to enlist feline cooperation.

Most people who share a home with a cat or two will identify with my story, a story of how I had to problem solve by convincing a very stubborn cat to cooperate with her own recovery.

When I first noticed the hairless patch of raw skin on Eclipse's front leg, I chose to wait it out another week or so to see if the sore would heal on its own. I reasoned that my cat was healthy enough to lick the exposed skin back to health.

A week later that sore patch grew bigger and redder and I finally made an appointment with the vet to bring Eclipse in the next day. I was over-confident, so sure I could just pick her up and slide her into the carrier with ease and grace. Perhaps she would even walk in by her own free will. That is what I mistakenly thought fifteen minutes before we needed to leave in order to make our appointment on time.

She resisted as soon as I picked her up and brought her close to the opening. I needed to put on garden gloves to avoid any more scratches after suffering through several well aimed blows. I cajoled with sweet talk…tried to bribe with food…tried to explain I was trapping her for her own good.

I tried to find the zen in those moments, for didn’t the wise Eckhart Tolle once claim that “I have lived with several Zen masters — all of them cats.”

I also tried to make eye contact with her over the carrier as she pressed herself against the door, trying to communicate my good intentions and need for cooperation. Didn’t David Wood do his own claiming in his book “If a Cat Could Talk” — “Look into the eyes of a cat for a moment. Your gaze will flicker between recognizing another being, and staring into a void.”

I recognized a being that had no intention of entering that carrier.

I finally had to admit defeat and called the vet for advice. The vet commiserated with me and suggested I habituate my tough little critter to eat her meals inside the carrier over the next several days while cleaning the sore with salt water.

It took over a day for Eclipse’s hunger to dominate over her suspicion and reluctantly walk into the carrier to eat from her bowl of food. Over three days and six meals she slowly let down her guard and accepted that mealtime would be inside the carrier.

The saltwater, however, had no affect on the sore. I worried about a possible infection and so once again made an appointment with the vet, praying that Eclipse would not suspect that her next meal would allow me to trick her into finally trapping her in the carrier and to bring her in for much needed treatment.

I felt a twinge of guilt for betraying her trust as I locked the carrier door into place. She glared at me through the cage and rose her voice in a fury that would rival an exploding volcano.

I was reassured that I had done the right thing when she was finally fully sedated and lying on the vet’s examination table. After rubbing on cream and wrapping up the exposed sore with gauze (and pulling out a surprise thorn that was embedded in the poor cat’s gums), the vet prescribed a weeks’ worth of antibiotics.

I was so thankful to return home with a treatment plan and a hope that it would only take a few days for Eclipse to forgive me.

Well, wonders of wonders and miracles of miracles she jumped into my lap within minutes of leaving the carrier and shaking off the last of the sedative. She jumped into my lap with the gift of forgiving purrs, as if she truly understood that all this effort was to help her feel better.

This story does not end here, for you may wonder how I convinced this stubborn cat to swallow antibiotic pills twice a day for a week!

Again, I needed to evoke a bit of trickery as I crumbled the small pill and camouflaged it among the tuna and cheese.

And here I present to you my sweet Eclipse, a week later and happily recovered!