My cat is now on anti-anxiety medication.
I’ve always thought that, if anyone would have to go on anti-anxiety medication, it would be me. But apparently my cat is crazier than I am.
The troublesome thing about this is that he hates the taste. He doesn’t like it no matter how I disguise it. I’ve tried all the pill tricks, as he’s a regular R.P. McMurphy when it comes to pretending to take pills and then spit them out. I now mash them up and put the dust in kitty crack (Petromalt) or butter.
However, neither of those tactics work for the anti-anxiety pills, of course. I tried sprinkling it on his dry food in the morning, which proved futile because he said, “Hey! That tastes funny. I don’t have to eat it.” Which I never thought he’d ever say in 2 thousand million years. So I added wet food and eventually he put it all down.
Baby food is my next option.
Dr. Doolittle felt this was a good step because Cairo’s blood sugar seems to be doing fine, yet he continues to despoil the kitchen every day whilst I’m at work, open impossible-to-reach cupboards and otherwise behave outrageously. We’ll see if it helps.
I am otherwise writing quietly and living grandly, thanks for asking. And as I have some time to write today, I’m swiping it and making away with it forthwith.