I’d try treats. Toys. Sitting on the floor calling his name. And all the while, I’d be watching the clock, knowing we were going to be late.
Eventually I’d have no choice but to reach under the bed and try to get him myself.
That was always the worst part.
He’d squirm, scratch and cry. By the time I got him anywhere near the carrier, we were both completely stressed out.
The first time I cancelled the appointment, I told myself he was just having a bad day.
Then I cancelled another one.
And then a third.
That’s when I realized something had to change.
At first, I thought Milo was afraid of the vet. But the more I thought about it, the less that made sense.
We weren't even at the vet yet.
He was already hiding the moment he saw the carrier.
And that's when it hit me:
The carrier had become the warning sign.