delayed cats, and buttery bitten fingers.

'Ello.

Subsequent to saturdays post, we didn't get to meet minty the sad eyed cat. Unfortunately, Cheryl was laid low by some inconsiderate virus, and we were advised that the visit was a no go for now. As we are off to that there London for a few days at the end of this week (I've not seen my parent's in about five years - I'm a terrible son), we all thought it would be unfair to bring home a new cat, only to leave her with a cat sitter for the best part of a week. So we will be doing the visitation and adoption when we get back. This also gives me a chance to clean under the bed, where she will no doubt hide.

I want to be sick under your bed.

Last night we wormed all the cats, apart from the fat floozy sparrow, who wasn't about. It went something like this:

We got the worming tablets, selected two cats each and commenced battle. Ruth chose winter and PC, I got splatto and shoe. Muttering "may the odds be ever in your favour" we got to work. Winter was instantly like " NOPE, I see what you are up to humans, and will have no part of it" and tried promptly to escape. Ruth with lightning reflexes, got hold of him, and after popping the pill in and closing his mouth, coaxed him into swallowing his medicine. He went a bit poofy and stalked away, slightly disgusted with our behaviour.

I tried the same with splatto, who is a wiggly cat at the best of time. She looked at me asif to say "HELL NO, I just saw what you did to the douche cat, jog on homie" . I got the pill in, she spat it out, I tried again, she spat it out. I tried a third time, she bit me hard on the hand, and then ran like the wind, and stood in the bath shouting "round one to me, shaved monkey butler!" I gave up until a new plan was formulated.

Meanwhile poor Ruth and PC (who is still a bit nervy - the gods alone know how she was mistreated) were involved in a gentle coaxing struggle to get her to eat her meds. oth were getting saddened by the other. Ruth figured that cats like butter, so the tablet was crushed, and mooshed in with some unsalted butter. The pill was eaten, under duress, but PC ended up with a greasy face, and butter all over her chops, like a three year old with an ice cream. She hid under the bed.

I'm ready for you now.

I tried the same tactic with splatto, who by now was wise to me. She ate the butter, but was not happy about it.

Shoe was easy. She was sitting atop my armour in a cupboard, and i merely gave her a slice of ham, with the tablet crushed into it. Job done. 

All four of them were most displeased with us, for getting rid of their potential "belly buddies", but if they will go out committing war crimes on mice, what do they expect?

We were both frazzled too. This was a bad experience for all, and we were both drenched in liquid butter, cat drool, and bits or worming pill. It's not a good look.

I think next time we will use the spot on drops.