Showing posts with label pills. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pills. Show all posts

Sunday, 5 July 2009

I Can Has Paté... But For How Long?

Latest development in the ongoing saga of Janet and his hyperthyroid pills (Janet is a boy, btw, for newcomers to Under The Paw): it has been decided that submerging the pill in paté is a reliable Trojan device. This seems to be working so far, but I've thought the same with various other tactics that I've used to make him take the pill, and been proved wrong. First there was the Submerging The Pill In Reconstituted Meat method, then the Putting The Pill In A Pat Of Butter method, followed by the truly icky Cutting Open A Chunk Of Meaty Goodness And Putting The Pill Inside That Then Resealing It method. Of course, these have all been usurped at times by the Grabbing Him And Wrapping Him In A Towel And Shoving It Into His Mouth method, but I would, if possible, like to think I'm not the kind of person who would drive one of his pets to leave home for good and tell tales of cruelty to random strangers. Moreover, I wear a lot of t-shirts at the moment, and I don't relish having to repeatedly explain to friends that the state of my lower arm is not the result of self-harming. I have a pea shooter waiting in reserve, recommended to me by my Siamese-owning former neighbour, Bob, which I've used once on Janet and found quite effective (the expression on his face was possibly the most shocked I've seen since the time 8 years ago that he forgot he could fly and decided to jump out of a second storey window in pursuit of a wood pigeon). I hope things don't come to that, but they almost certainly will.

In the meantime, my main problem is a) how much paté actually costs and b) trying to explain to my other cats that, despite what some of my enemies and very good friends might claim, I cannot produce spreadable paste on demand. The latter is proving particularly difficult in the case of Pablo (see below, looking eager and unusually sane), who is currently stalking me on a near-24 hour basis and has taken his fondness for headbutting to new extremes. I mean: I like a friendly nudge from a cat as much as the next ailurophile, but I'm sure there's something wrong when an animal a tenth of your size nuts you so hard he almost sends you sprawling across your kitchen floor.