Personally, I think the best way to give your cat a pill is…have your wife, husband, partner…do it!
In all seriousness, I have worked in many animal shelters (and, of course have way too many cats at home) the best way to give your cat a pill is to scruff and stuff. A cat is generally, okay with being scruff-ed. His/Her mother would haul them around by the scruff of the neck…and, the kitten finds it nurturing. Once you have scruff-ed, you stuff the pill to the back of the throat. Less dry effect of a pill stuck in the throat and your pet will appreciate (in the end) not gagging on an antibiotic.
It had been a stormy night, late December, in Canterbury. Winds were howling, dirt roads…one big pothole.
Ironic, my wife had just mentioned that morning how I…hadn’t had my eyes checked. And, that possibly, just possibly, I should get that done…sooner than later.
Perhaps, I shouldn’t have told the story of seeing the biggest and heaviest, crows…flying over a hiking trail at the waterfalls.
And, perhaps I should have omitted the fact that these, clumsy, chubby, birds…turned out to be wild turkeys.
During this recent early winter storm and being an animal lover…I had spotted a low to the ground stray dog. After pointing out this poor, four legged soul to my wife. I quickly jetted from the car to retrieve it. And, of course, I would be the hero of the day. Whistling and cooing the dog over to the car. The dog seemed disheveled. It seemed a little on the wild-side. However, it was willing to come greet me.
Then as if a ship horn in the fog. My wife honked the horn. The poor creature shuffled back into the bramble. Pissed off, I walked back to the car. Strolled back only to be chastised.
These are best of times. The worst of times! I am walking the dog in the midst of a snowstorm.
The worst of times being generally, dragging the bedraggled ass across a snow drift, needing to go out to pee at 3 in the morning. And, probably the most difficult moments, watching the dogs vomit over the newly purchased couch.
The best of times? They are innumerable! Which led my suffocating mind to wondering…
What makes you a true dog lover?
If you walk your dog…often. Sometimes too often! A true dog lover knows the name of each and stranger dog they encounter.
Not only does the true dog lover know the name of every dog they meet. They tend to forget (or do not even ask) the name of their two-legged friend.
I lavish the ‘newbie’ dog we encounter with such accolades as: Oh, what a nice young lady you are? Look at your eyes! How deep they are? Where did you get that collar? Pink is your color!
Sometimes I go so far as reaching under the hood! I suppose that comes from having worked in shelters. But when greeting a four-legged friend…I don’t want to offend by calling, him a her. Or, her… a him. I know personally how insulted my female dog is when she is told she is…handsome. She is not handsome…she is pretty.
A true dog lover will use a dog’s need for exercise to get out of going to family gatherings. “Honey, can you call your sister and tell her we can’t come for Thanksgiving? There is so little time. And, I haven’t even taken the dogs out yet!”
I ride with the window down in the summer. The summer in New Hampshire. Which means? No air conditioning because it is a waste of fuel but the dog loves hanging his head out the window. Which means? Window down in the winter. Ten below with the wind chill factor…because the dog likes the window down.
Lastly, I have had to forgive the ‘killings.’ I have a ‘hound’ mix. She came from Georgia, 12 years ago. And, she is not a Georgia peach!
Mattie is sweet, sluggish and solemn! Yet, dangle a small dog, a gopher, a rodent, in front of her…She turns into a low down, dirty shame, killer.
After the first kill, a gopher roaming about at a farm; I had been shaken up. With fervor, I attempted to free the creature from Mattie…yet, the little guy began fighting and screaming. Not with Mattie…but with me. The screaming had started to get to me (my screaming and the gophers.) I just gave up. Survival of the fittest and what not. Thus, from that day forward…I forgave the ‘killings.’
Who am I to judge?
A true dog lover will languish in 70 degree temperatures. Sun is out, no winds, low humidity and perfected landscape.
A true dog lover will also suffer in 10 inches of newly fallen snow, frigid temps and low visibility!
A true dog lover knows…perfect zen moments come from walking the dog.
It makes me sad…to refer to our fresh kitten as, Demon baby. Yet, as I struggle to tie my shoe…with laces frayed. As I sip my lukewarm coffee because I have just spent the last 30 minutes…running around the backyard, slightly, bare ass. Chasing the Demon baby who happens to be enamored by the squirrel nest twenty feet up…in the old Oak tree. And, with all of that, as I pretend to rest, with tepid coffee in hand. Sipping from a chipped coffee mug. A mug I had managed to keep for several years. Several years of fighting off dogs, adult cats and the ‘wife’! Chipped from a, not aging quickly enough, kitten and his poor judgment.
All of this combined, along with a six month old kitten sticking his ass, and his, intact-ness, in my face…as I attempt to watch the morning news. With all this…nothing compares to the…
‘Did you see Floyd? Quick get the camera. Don’t make any sudden moves. I want to get a picture.’
What attracts the over the edge, always trending Cat Lady, to the obtuse, narcissistic, unrelenting cuteness, of a cat?
A cat can make about a hundred different sounds. Which makes sense. I have never and will never forget the sound a cat delivers…whilst throwing up on the newly purchased furniture.
Both humans and cats have identical regions in their brains that are responsible for emotions.
After the cat vomits on the, can’t afford to replace it, sofa, the same emotion is felt by human and feline..alike. The feeling of ‘WTF is that? Are we missing a bag of pot?
3. 40, ooo people are bitten every year by the ‘favorite’ cat. That being said, it is most likely, the same cat. Year in and year out. Until the favorite cat has moved on to greener pastures at the ripe old age of 30.
4. A cat rubs against people not only to be affectionate but also to mark out its territory with scent glands around its face, body and paws. This would make sense with the, not ready to be neutered, kitten, sticking his male-ness in my face…and, than, rubbing the rest of himself… all over my pajama bottoms. I’ve tried to tell all the cats, …no worries, I am yours. But apparently, they do not trust humans and their emotions.
5. 1/3 of cat owners believe their cats can read their minds!
I believe number 5 thoroughly explains a humans need to be accepted by the cat. Without intention, humans have forced themselves into a harried world. Centuries ago, this had been true. And, it is certainly, fact today.
As I begin my descent from the day.
After being…most likely –
Made fun of
Overwhelmed with petty conversation
Underwhelmed with work
Plugged in and tuned out
After a monotony of nothingness turning into more oblique behavior for the next day. Cat lovers simply crave to have the work done for them. When my cat reads my mind, he is witnessing –
I don’t care if you love me…I love you anyways. You are far wiser than I. Charisma is too plain a word to describe you. Please take me to your leader…I am in need of understanding…without my having to explain why!
EARL'S PLACE: "AN OPEN & RESPECTFUL ONLINE SPACE TO DEBATE OPPORTUNITIES & CHALLENGES FACING THE GLOBE," CURATED BY AWARD-WINNING COLUMNIST, EARL PLANTE, AN UNFLINCHING ADVOCATE FOR SOCIAL & ECONOMIC JUSTICE