On Tuesday afternoon, our vet sent us home with another thing to try–instead of a pill, we got Mirtazapine chews that are supposed to taste good to cats. The drug is to stimulate Toby’s appetite and, if he will eat them, would replace the pill that I now have to fight to give him.

Duke had an earlier round of antibiotics delivered in the same tasty chew. He loved them, wanted more. It made giving an antibiotic a pleasure for both of us. But Toby’s tolerance for such things is an unknown.

Well, we just had the first test. I take the chewy wafer out of its plastic package and place next to Toby. He sniffed, looked away. A minute later, he sniffed again, even gave it a tentative lick. I thought it was looking good! But that was as close as he got. He may have tried one more tentative partial lick. But that was it. He would not eat it. No way.

Then I did try Plan B, treating it like a pill and hoping to get it into his mouth. That was quite a spectacular failure.

So I was back to the pill. Actually the dose is just a quarter of an already small pill, small enough that it’s difficult to divide into quarters. So I do the best that I can and end up with something close. I put a small bit of pill pocket dough around it, just to try to cover the rough edges and keep it from disintegrating in his mouth during the pilling process. That, by the way, is the worst. It triggers an immediate flood of saliva, usually soon accompanied by vomiting. As you can tell, I get stressed just describing it, and I know it’s very stressful for Toby as well.

Today I carried him to the bedroom and I tried the cat-burrito-in-towel technique on our bed, which failed grandly. Stike three, I should have been out. But I’ve got to get this to work. Somehow.

So then I went for a different approach that sometimes works. I approach him directly from the front, show him the pill I’m working with, and go for it. Tilt head back until mouth opens (this rarely works, but always worth trying). It didn’t work today, so then it’s slight pressure on the sides of his mouth to gently pry mouth and sharp teeth open. This elicits some very un-gentle swipes with the front claws, and as usually one made contact with flesh. OUCH! We both stop, regroup, I make sure the pill still has some of that stuff around it, and make another approach from the front. This time, in the midst of his twist-drop-and-claw maneuver, I get it into his mouth and am able to hold his mouth closed, pill inside. Without the bitter taste of the uncoated pill, his tongue makes an appearance and the pill has been swallowed. I lift him down off the bed. That’s when I notice that the unpleasantness has caused him to release his bladder. So now it’s put cat on his towel in front of the door to the deck, take bedding apart, give cat a little food, put bedding in the washer.

Pour a glass of iced tea, as it’s too early in the day for stronger stuff, although it has been hard earned already. Sit in front of MacBook Pro and describe the ordeal. I’m told this is therapeutic.

Luckily, I shouldn’t have to go through the pill thing again today.

Please let that be the case!