In my last post I talked about how Ethan's cat, Red, was stressed out by having to take pills.
It reminds me of a cat I used to have. Speck was an unhappy boy. I had gotten him and his litter mate, Bungee, at a shelter and they were both neurotic. Bungee was OK as long as long as I let her sit on my lap. Anytime I'd sit down she would jump on my lap. If I pushed her off, she'd jump back on. Over and over.
Speck wasn't quite as affectionate. He was more like a regular cat. He did show affection -- headbutting me every morning, for example. Well, maybe he just wanted food. Anyway, he had some behavioral issues which concerned me. I won't go into detail here, since there's no need.* I had an animal behaviorist come over to observe Speck and the apartment and assess the situation. She prescribed antidepressants. And this is where the problem came in.
I couldn't give him pills like we did with Red. Speck would bite and scratch if I tried to catch him to give him a pill. As much as I loved him, I wasn't about to submit to that. The behaviorist suggested I try mashing up pills into his food. Now, this meant that I had to start giving him canned food. Have I ever mentioned that I think canned cat food is disgusting. I go with dry. All. The. Time. But, OK, if my cat's emotional well-being was at stake, well, desperate times and all that hooey.
So I got him canned cat food, and gave it to him. At first I didn't adulterate it with the pill because I wanted to make sure he was happy with it. He was. After a couple days, I tried mashing up a pill into the food. Other than that step, I did everything the same. When I put the food bowl down on the floor, Speck came in to eat. He stopped and stared at the bowl. He sniffed it. Several times. I ended up with wet cat food all over the kitchen walls, and a grumpy cat. Bungee ended up eating the food -- she wasn't nearly as discerning as Speck.
*Yeah, like that's ever stopped me.
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