People often worry about what will happen to their animals when they go to the veterinarian for a dental procedure. I’m Dodger the cat, and I’m here to tell you about my dental adventure…

One day my mom put me in a carrier and closed the gate. Normally these carriers are hanging around the house and make comfy beds. When the gate closes, however, I know something is up. The carrier was picked up and carried to the car. I ended up at the veterinarian’s office. My person carried me in, signed a bunch of papers—something about high-risk anesthesia being safer and helping me wake up faster—I thought that sounded like a good idea. My person gasped at something called an estimate, and I heard that it was so high because I was going to have quite a few teeth extracted. That didn’t sound good to me.

Then a nice-looking lady came and picked me up in my carrier and took me away. I heard my person say good-bye in the distance, but I was focusing more on where in the world I was headed. The lady took me out of my carrier and put me in a bigger cage. There was a lot of activity going on with people walking around and talking. I cautiously sat in the back of my cage and watched. Soon the nice lady came back and took me out to place me on a table. A big friendly gentleman in a white jacket came over and looked at my teeth and felt my body all over. They took my temperature and then announced to me that I looked healthy, but that I would feel even better when this was all over. Somehow that wasn’t reassuring.

One of the ladies took me gently by the scruff and laid me on my side. The other lady pulled my back leg out and sprayed something cold on my leg. I struggled. I didn’t like the sound of the squirt bottle. That sound usually meant I was doing something wrong. They talked to me gently while I calmed down and then there was a little prick feeling in my leg like a bee sting. They held me tight while they explained they needed some blood for testing; then they put me back in my cage and let me rest a while. I watched other activities going on in the clinic. A little orange tabby gave them a hard time as they tried to get blood from all legs and then finally a neck. “Now if you just held still like Dodger, this would be over,” they said to him. That made me proud. I was glad my person had taken the time to hold me in the same way as these ladies did so it wasn’t all that scary when they held me down. Poor little fellow probably didn’t have that same training experience, so he was going to fight them every step of the way.

After a while, the ladies took me out, put me on the table again, and said, “Your blood work looks good, time for a catheter.” I didn’t know what that was, but I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to like it. They took out some clippers which buzzed when it turned on. I had heard and seen these before when my person used them on the poodle. I used to laugh at him when he got groomed. I figured this was my penance for making fun of him as now I was at the cutting edge of the clippers. The ladies shaved a little fur off my leg, and it didn’t hurt a bit—not sure why the poodle fussed so much. Then one lady held my leg really tight as the other poked around with her finger. She said, “One, two, three, prick,” and put some needle in my leg and said something about fluids while I was under—under what? I meowed a little and tried to pull my leg back, but the other lady held tight and whispered the bad part was over. They put a bandage around the catheter and told me not to pull it out or I’d get a cone. That didn’t sound good. I shook my leg around when they put me back in the cage, but that thing wouldn’t budge. I curled up in the back of my cage and watched everyone suspiciously. I began to get a little sleepy. “Looks like the pre-med is kicking in doc,” the one lady said to the man in the white coat. Soon I was lifted out of the cage and brought to a table with tools all around it. 

They put a mask over my face; I was scared but I was so sleepy, I didn’t fight it. Then I don’t remember anything.

When I woke up, my mouth felt funny and my throat was a little sore. I felt woozy. One of the ladies wrapped me in a towel and held me for a while. That felt nice. She talked to me and said something about a tube having been in my throat for breathing and that my throat would feel better soon. How did she know my throat hurt? Smart lady! After a while when I felt more awake, she put me in a cage that was nice and warm. Despite the warmth, I still shook a little. I tried to stand up, but fell over. I decided it was best to just stay put and not move. The lady came back frequently to check on me. I had a nasty taste in my mouth, but I was too tired to care and decided to sleep.

I felt myself being lifted and thought I was dreaming until I realized I was going back into my crate. The lady brought me out to my person and explained that I had 10 teeth removed—TEN?? How was I going to eat? My person asked the lady that same question and she explained that I had plenty of teeth left, but that I should have soft food for the next few weeks. I liked that idea. Canned food is yummy!

Don’t worry if your animal needs to have a dental. It really wasn’t that big of a deal, even if they did take 10 teeth. I was feeling fine within a few days. I had some funny stitches in my mouth that tickled my tongue, but they went away after a while and my mouth felt normal again. Now that it’s over, I realize how much my mouth had been bothering me before the dental and am glad that my human cared enough to make sure I have a healthy mouth. Happy dental month!