The other evening (well, Tuesday 4th, for our records), we noticed a lot of black fur on the dining room rug. Black fur=Ron, so we had a good look at him; he had an abscess on his face, and a nasty hole under his chin. So, the next morning, he was inserted into a cat carrier – with some difficulty, I might say. Ron is the most amenable of chaps, but he really doesn’t care to be confined. Pete then conveyed Ron to the vet in his bike trailer, where he was cleaned, jabbed and prescribed 7 days worth of antibiotics.
He was as good as gold with the pills, once he was convinced that after pills came chickie! as a treat, and we had no trouble at all – just called “Ronkin” twice a day, and he’d come down to the kitchen and sit on the stool for his dose. We did use a pill popper, as it’s quicker and easier for all concerned.
Cost a fortune in chickie!, of course, as anycat who was in would appear for their share, but worth it all the same. He has healed up nicely, and now we’re just waiting for his beautiful black fur to grow back in.
Further note to self: Henry and Ron Advantaged today – Frontline just doesn’t seem to do it any more.
Mirrored from the Tribe.