Well, we took 5 cats in to the vet on Monday for their annual checkup. The caravan of two cars ferrying 5 cats in the 15-minute trip was no joy. Mr. Tally and I compared notes. Zeke yipped, Tally squeaked, Gizmo chanted and Kenya trilled. Put it all together and you get 15 minutes of non stop chanting yippytrillsqueaks, and a lot of stares from the motorist in the next lane over at the red light wondering what you have covered in the backseat and why you are talking to it.
Three brawny technicians, my husband and myself formed our own conga line as we wound our way through the vet's reception area and into the examination room. We looked like a rainbow. Each carrier was a different color - raspberry, teal, purple, blue and beige. I believe in making a fashion statement, even in the most stressful of circumstances.
10 shots, 4 dentals, 4 rounds of Isoflourane, 1 eye flush and sinus check, 100 claw trimmings, 2 bottles of Amoxycillin, 1 bottle of eyedrops, 1 bottle of Liquid Derm Caps, 1 refill of Mycostat, and several dollars later we're done. "Oh, and give Zeke and Kenya amoxycillin drops for 5 days. Their dentals were a little rough."
Right.
I get up the next morning and put on my sparkling white bathrobe, fresh from the laundry. I prepare myself.
I'm giving other people advice on how to give liquid meds to their cats. I've done Boots twice a day for 2 years. I did Tardy for years. I can do this. After all, we've had these cats for 2 years now. They trust me, right?
Little 7 pound Kenya wasn't too bad. The crowbar helped. Note for Dr. Richter here: I don't think she ever lost her baby teeth. Judging from the bite marks I would say she has at least 2 full sets in there.
And now we go for the 18 lb feral, Zeke the Streak. In the 2 years we've had him, I've never had to "do" anything to Zeke. How many humans does it take to get 1 cc of liquid down a cat's throat? Not enough. I try sitting on the floor in the traditional between your legs approach, but he's like a greased lightening bolt. A little bowling ball with 4 spiked feet. Not to worry, those thigh wounds will heal quite nicely, thanks. Retreat, apply Neosporin, regroup, and go for the towel lock approach. Paws, claws, the towel and my bathrobe - we're all one indistinguishable blur rolling around the floor.
I see an opening! I shoot! I miss. Geez.
My aim is getting better though. I can tell this from the splatter patterns forming on my bathrobe, legs and slippers. The other 6 cats are hanging around wide-eyed enjoying the show, and no doubt thanking their lucky little stars it isn't them. I try approaching Zeke from the front, sideways, backwards. No luck. Pools of Sticky Pink are forming on my kitchen floor. I'm leaving size 7 pink Dearfoam tread marks all over the white linoleum. The sideline chorus is cheering "Go Zeke. Go Zeke." I glare at them, but they don't care. A show of solidarity is what's needed here. Next time, it might be them.
I sit down on the floor, take a couple of calming breaths and position myself to attempt the incredibly tricky and highly complex Triple Combination Double Leg and Single Arm Lock to be attempted only by the brave or very desperate. Zeke is sitting square in front of me, grinning. This is probably the most exercise he has had in two years. Me either, for that matter. I make my move...
Lying flat on the floor, as I gaze upwards at the ceiling I realize my light fixtures need dusting. I roll my spinning head sideways see the other six cats lined up in a row in the doorway holding up their paws. 3.0, 3.0, 3.5, 3.5, 2.0, and a 2.5 from Donovan, who is unsuccessfully trying to hide a smirk behind those twitching whiskers. Boots takes marks off for technique, noting that I didn't keep my legs together while somersaulting over Zeke.
By now, Zeke is getting suspicious of my every move. We circle each other cautiously. Zeke's eyes are fixated on that little pink dropper in my hand. I paint big circles in the air watching his head move round and round. "You are getting sleepy. Your eyes are getting heavy". I'll try anything. Meanwhile, I'm spewing the contents of the eyedropper all over the kitchen walls and major appliances, and the contents of the bottle has been spilling out in spurts throughout my little Tango with Zeke. I watch mesmerized as the drops slowly dribble down my cupboard doors in little streams. My kitchen looks like something out of a Science Fiction movie. Didn't those aliens bleed pink? I'll bet those special effects people used Amoxycillin. This kitchen looks like it's been hosed.
Wiping pink streaked hair out of my eyes, I reach a nasty conclusion. This isn't going to work. Zeke is looking up at me with those big innocent eyes. I know he is laughing. None of that pink stuff is going down his tiny little throat any time soon.
Day One, Dose One, and I concede defeat. I call the vet. I should have asked if they had Amoxy pills in the first place. I'll grind those little suckers into his food. He'll never know the difference....
