I am a crazy cat lady, I know this not only because a friend bought me this for Christmas:
…but also for the past week I’ve had the challenge of dispensing more medication to our Ingrid.
Already coping with hyperthyroidism and a dodgy liver she’s had some sort of cat flu-esque thing on top, meaning she’s on three tablets a day, each one to be given individually at different times. Luckily she’s not the type to challenge, so they’ve gone in some cream (she loves cream) and down her with no bother.
There’s been eye drops administered twice a day also. After a wrestling match too far I threw in the towel and popped them in after she’d nodded off.
Tactics, dear friends; TACTICS.
I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but it’s been a *bit* parky these last days, meaning we’ve had cats-on-and-in-the-bed. I woke up this morning with a fully grown male Siamese (with chunky thighs) asleep on my hip, Big Jim – angry because he can’t go out – curled up like a boulder in the middle of the duvet and an enthusiastic perky May purring in my face because IT’S MORNING AND THAT MEANS BREAKFAST.
But I hear the sun’s going to be cracking the flags* here in Merseyland later this week, so…
(*OPTIMISM)
arr Ingrid’s a bit bloody beautiful.
Don’t look into her eyes. She’s a witch