Things are improving! Hurrah! The liquid Piriton seems to be having a positive physical effect on Louis Catorze, and his bald, itchy bits are slowly healing. Administering it, however, is the worst thing in the world, and there’s no way of doing it apart from a stealth attack and an undignified neck scruff.
Whilst I love the taste of Piriton, to the point where I’ve considered using it as a crème de menthe substitute in a Sub Zero cocktail shot, I don’t think Louis Catorze agrees. His face after tasting suggests that he finds it rather like that concoction your hilarious university friends made on your birthday, when they put a shot of everything from the optics bar into one glass and made you drink it. It also doesn’t help matters that, despite not being the brightest, Louis Catorze knows when I’m loading the syringe, even if I go outdoors to do it; when I come back into the room/house, he’s already shifted into Battle Cat mode and is poised, ready to tear my soul out and send it to hell. This happens even if I don’t have the syringe on me, having hidden it elsewhere for later use AND washed my hands.
Offering treats as a bribe: he doesn’t like food, so no.
Mixing medication into food: as above. In fact, when I once created some cute little tuna patties laced with Atopica, he gave me the resigned “Go home – you’re embarrassing yourself” look.
Is this too much to hope for: a day when I no longer have to put him through this? Hurry up, test results!
Ok, so this is a rubbish photo, and I knew it would be rubbish because the blinds were shut, but I had to post it because I was just so thrilled to get some love.
When I returned from work yesterday I had the pleasure of a welcome home greeting, then Louis Catorze spent all evening on my lap watching Hollyoaks on On Demand (we’re a high-brow, classy bunch here at Le Palais), and then we had bedtime cuddles. In fact, when I woke up in the very early hours and realised that Louis Catorze wasn’t with me, I called for him (this would definitely NOT have been allowed had Cat Daddy been home), he came running, making a huge amount of thuddy-thuddy noise for a small cat, and he stayed with me until my alarm this morning.
Now, sadly, it’s a different story. I loaded up his syringe before going to work this morning so that it would be ready when I got home. Despite being thicker than a concrete milkshake, HE KNOWS THIS and isn’t budging from La Cage Aux Folles. At some point I will have to drag his arse out and get him, which will wipe out the last 24 glorious hours in a flash, but such is life with a sickly cat.
The vet has told me that I can ditch the pills and start giving Louis Catorze liquid Piriton instead, and apparently the human version bought at the chemist is perfectly acceptable; I just need to wait until she has confirmed the dose. And I’ve booked him in for a blood allergy test on Monday. At least I will have zero difficulty getting him into La Cage.