I’m sure you’ve all read (or at least the animal-people among you) the “How to feed a cat a pill” manual…
It’s that time again. It’s not a pill this time, though, but some paste. 3 days they have to get it. And 3 days they WILL get it, if it’s the last thing I do. Every year it’s a day of getting used to. For me (or the Better Half) to give it, but also for the cats to realize that really I AM the boss and they WILL eat what’s shoved down their throat.
Yesterday was that day of getting used to. No problem whatsoever with Cassandra. She remembers who’s the boss and she just wants to get it over with. But Ramses, Mr Peabrain with his non-existent (any term) memory always has to be reminded that there’s no winning this fight for him. I gave him the paste and he started smacking and then he shook his head and most of the paste was on the kitchen drawers, on the fridge, on the floor and on me.
But I’m persistent, more so than he, so I gave him a new shot and held him. And he smacked some more, but I didn’t let him shake his head. And all was fine.
It all comes down to authority, I guess *grins*
Today it was all smooth like a feather. Even Ramses’s (any term) memory must’ve replayed yesterday’s events, because he didn’t even struggle.
(maybe we’re just lucky with our cats, like I’m lucky with my in-laws, because that also seems to be out of the ordinary 😀 )
Riiiiiight… You were expecting a self portrait of me in the kitchen covered in that paste, right?
Sorry to disappoint you. I’m making a fool out of myself already enough 😉