Lucy had her first vet appointment today (first one with me, anyway). The CARE representative that handled the adoption process recommended a good place not too far from my apartment, so I figured I'd go with that.
What I discovered today, and what any pet owner probably could have told me, is that the visit to the vet does not start when you walk into the building. Rather, it starts 20 minutes before you leave as you try to get the cat into the carry-case. Lucy absolutely WOULD NOT go into hers. I tried treats, I tried toys, I tried sweet talk, nothing would work. As soon as she got near it, all four legs went in all four directions. Eventually I had to use the box that she came home in, which was easier since it's a top loading box. Lesson: time to buy a new carry-case.
Anyway, we got to the vet, and in the course of filling out paper work I discovered that there is a very cute young doctor there. After scouring the brochure they gave me, I think his name is Dr. O'Sullivan. He enjoys running, weight training, gold and kayaking. Special veterinary interests include soft tissue surgery, internal medicine, exotics and ultrasound. Aaaaanyway...
Lucy is just fine. A healthly 9.5 pounds, no worms. Six of her front incisors are missing but those aren't teeth that cats use much anyway (the vet said they mostly likely rotted out when she was living on the streets). She does have some yeast and bacteria in her ears, so we came home with some drops. That'll be interesting, but worth it. When the vet swabbed the inside of her ears, some pretty funky gunk came out, and I want that stuff out of my cat. All in all Lucy was great during all of it. A bit unconfortable during the checking of the temperature, but given where they stick the thermometer, that's not unexpected. The most traumatic part of the experience really was just getting her into her case.