I've spent today getting taking Alma to the vet, then getting everybody dewormed and deflea'd. This is one of those things that is negligble for one cat, but wallet-busting with three: about $45/cat. Ouch.
Though, thank god, it wasn't ouch in all the ways it could have been. Sergie is a master cat-piller. He wraps them up in a towel, sticks the pill in their mouths, then kinda shifts the cat around until they swallow. No holding their mouths closed, no tapping on the throat or holding their nostrils. They just swallow. And they're not real pissed afterwards either. I heard that Time magazine is looking for a Man of the Year...
What did piss them off was the Advantage for fleas. I do admit it doesn't feel real good when I spill some on myself, but it's got to be done. Alma's sitting on my lap again, which isn't exactly great as she smells strongly of Advantage, but it also means that she's not hiding from me. Maybe getting rid of the worms will help her deflate a little.
I'm sure Orpheus will forgive me sometime between now and next Thursday.
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