OPINION: Why growing cabbage is better than taking the cat to the vet

You want to grow cabbage. So, you till the soil in your backyard a little, you plant the little cabbage seeds and gently tamp the soil down over them. You water, and you wait for them to grow. Simple.

Now, instead you want to take the cat to the vet. You take out your cat-carrier — the first time was easy, she sniffed around the carrier mildly curious. Not this time, this time the cat’s eyes pop open, she jumps off the cat bed on top of the shelves in the den and races for the cat door in the kitchen. You try to get there first.

Not a chance. The cat escapes through that cat door and into the yard faster than you can say pass the beans. The hunt is on. “There she is, by the trash cans.” You circle around, your wife blocks the cat’s escape route.

Want to bet?

The cat is by your wife faster than your kids can race to the ice cream truck. “She’s headed for the gate, cut her off.” You do, and she shoots back through the cat door. Now you have her inside. You close the cat door; you won’t make that rookie mistake again.

But the hunt is still on, but the house is dead silent. You listen — nothing. A room-to-room search commences. You listen, you search, all while you close the door to each searched room and go on to the next room.

The search culminates in the master bedroom. As you look and listen, she makes her first mistake. A desperate little whine comes from under the bed. You quickly close the bedroom door. “We got you now.”

Not really, you own a Sleep Number bed and it’s low to the ground. You can see her, but you can’t reach her.

A yardstick doesn’t work, it’s too light and you have no leverage, and she won’t budge. However, a broom works. You push her to the other side of the bed where your wife is waiting. She grabs the cat.

The cat grabs onto her. Many scratches, violent twists, and unhappy cries later, she’s finally in the cat-carrier. Your wife will need six bandages.

She whines all the way — the cat, not your wife.

The vet takes her into a room. You can hear screeches all the way out in the waiting room. She’s scratched the assistant. She’s climbed the walls. She’s knocked over the medical tray. She’s bitten the vet.

After 20 minutes the vet comes out and says this cat’s uncooperative and can’t be treated. He says you need to find another vet — that’ll be $100 please.

And that’s why growing cabbage is better than taking the cat to the vet.