Taking Oswald to the vet is a bit like that old brain teaser about the fox, the goose, and the bag of grain. You can take one of the three in the canoe with you at a time. How do you get across the lake?
I've got: the cat (in the cat carrier that can't be held by the handle or it breaks), the baby (happily barfing on everything in sight), the overflowing diaper bag, and the stroller (which is building some serious back muscles being pulled in and out of the trunk). All of that goes in the car to drive five minutes to the cat clinic just to be unloaded again. And no matter how cute Little Man is and no matter how much I want Oswald to not be dying of some mysterious cat illness and no matter how good I am at pushing our stroller with one hand, at the end of the day I say: sink the canoe. Make a rug out of all the cat hair that got on you trying to put the cat in the carrier so that you can save its life, and sink the (bleep) canoe.