My cat—the “real” Renfield—is loved, adored, brushed, petted, gets fresh raw tuna whenever I come back from an offshore fishing trip, fresh venison after every hunt, and has never been abused a minute in his life. He spends most of his time stalking my lap. But he behaves just like “Burger” when he goes to the vet. He has so intimidated the local vets, that they are very reluctant to do any procedure on him without anaesthesia.
I had a feral cat for a while. The story of how I managed to have a feral cat living in the house is a long one. Needless to say, taking her to the vet was always a challenge: I adapted the method I use for taking spiders out of the house, only with a larger "cup" (a trash can). Once we got her to the vet, it was impressive: the vet tech wore thick elbow length gloves and managed to restrain the cat well enough that the vet was able to do a full exam (including looking in the mouth!) and shots without tranquilizing the animal. Unfortunately, at the age of 4 1/2, our feral cat got FIP and died.