Mar. 28th, 2008

akabana: (Default)
If you think your life needs some action, then, by all means, get yourself a cat. Or two. Then, proceed to giving them their dewormer. Action ensues.

So, the story thus far: a while back we tried giving the boys their dewormer with the method that had worked previously, that is, as a crushed tablet mixed with boiled fish. Last year they eventually ate it, although gingerly and only after realizing nothing better was goung to be offered until they would empty the bowls. This time they didn't. Oh, well, Loki eventually ate some, so he probably got his assigned dose, but Leu resolved to fast until tastier repast would be offered. Later on, when investigating on methods of deworming a fussy cat, I found out that the particular brand of dewormer we had been using apparently is foul-tasting even as a whole tablet, but even more so when ground up. Well, you live and learn.

The next step was to purchase more dewormer in paste form and to squirt it directly in Leu's maw, since we figured he wouldn't probably eat it voluntarily anyway. The only problem was that it was a three-day regimen where the tablet had been a single dose, so we would have to make him swallow it for three times in a row. The first time was almost too easy. I simply grabbed him at the scruff of the neck, inched the tube between his teeth and squirted. Some of the stuff went on the floor, some on his fur, but most in his mouth. After I let go, he just went to the bathroom to mope for a while.

But the second time wasn't as easy. First of all he was a bit wary and led me a merry chase when he saw me coming with the paste. I finally got him pinned on top of the piano. Holding him still was the easy part, since he apparently was scared stiff. And there was me thinking it was a piece of cake as I squirted in the second dose. Then I got a whiff of something. The poor thing had evidently panicked and wet himself. On top of my piano. And I couldn't really be mad at him since he was so obviously scared out of his wits.

I can only blame myself, since I should have seen it coming. On previous occasions, Leu has sometimes shat himself out of spite or fear when cornered. Only this time he apparently was out of ammunition in that department. I actually would have preferred the feces to urine since it would have been a lot easier to clean up afterwards. I just thank whatever gods there is that none of it managed to enter the keyboard. So I spent the rest of the evening cleaning the piano with strong vinegar. For the moment it appears I got rid of the smell, which is relief. I would have hated to have to get rid of the instrument.

So, next time - implying today - when I have to give this particular tomcat his medicine, I'll be sure to do it on the floor or other washable surface.

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