Last week, I bought my first legal weapon: a cat pill gun. I grew tired of chasing Hannah around with the food bowl, in which I’d crushed up her medication, which she refused to eat. Sam, of course, would eat her medicine whole if I let him (he’ll eat anything, including carpet). So, I went to the vet for a lesson on cat-pilling.
Hannah almost bit off the vet tech’s fingers that tried to open her mouth the old-fashioned way, so the pill gun was going to be my only option. Of course, the vet tech said she preferred to call it a “pill popper,” but I think that makes the cat sound like a drug addict.
Without a significant other to help me hold Hannah down in the garret, I had to learn how to use my own two hands. As instructed, I first loaded the gun with the pill, coating it slightly with some wet food (to make it go down more easily). Then, placing it within reach, I wrapped Hannah in a thick bath towel, in the fashion of a strait-jacket, lowered her hind legs into my lap, clasping her between my knees, her back facing me. From the front (for a moment, I bent forward to check on her), she looked almost comfortable, actually, like a swaddled baby. She appeared mildly amused. Then, I used my non-dominant hand to hold the back of her neck, and pulled slightly so her nose tilted towards the ceiling. Finally, using my dominant hand, I stuck the end of the pill gun into the side of her mouth, which caused her to reflexively open, at which point I aimed, and pressed the plunger: the pill flew down her throat. After that, it was kitty reward time: dinner.
I’m shocked to say it’s been five days now of successful pill gunning. I’m hoping this medicine will help with Hannah’s liver inflammation, which has become a concern. However the good news is, with “medicine time” now shortened from two hours to two minutes, the stress level has gone down tremendously…. though I keep waiting to find a stash of pills hidden somewhere in the garret.