until we have to load the two cats into the carriers and haul them off, kicking and screaming, to the vet.

We brought the carriers upstairs two days ago, hoping the girls would be lulled into complacency by this morning, presuming by now that nothing's up, we're just storing them in the living room now.

Peach is snoozing in the rocking chair in the other room. She should be an easy pick. But although Cindy is currently in a nearby chair, she has been skulking around and nervous.

We will have to coordinate very carefully, Bob and I each stealthily choosing a cat and slowly getting nearer until I say "grab her!"

Then we scurry to the open cat carriers, hoping for the element of surprise to give us a few seconds before the frantic clawing begins.

It's pretty well choreographed by now (they're 9) but all we need is for one of them to get a whiff of impending doom, and someone will be crawling under a dresser trying to drag out a bundle of claws. (Not me)