Day 3, Dose 1

Well, this morning’s dose was a near-disaster.

For some unfathomable reason – perhaps because of a sneaking suspicion that another dose was imminent? – Tuffy was unwilling to remain inside the house this morning to await the arrival of the rescue angel with the magic towel. She was, however, willing to remain by my side, while I read a book on the back steps, rubbing her tummy with a free hand. I knew that, if I went inside for too long, she would disappear into one of her secret hiding places in the garden.

I could tell from the way she was repeatedly rubbing the side of her face, that her mouth was hurting her. It seemed to ease her discomfort when I gently stroked the side of her mouth and around her face and ears, and she loved it when I gently tugged and rotated her ears. I’d read somewhere that it has a soothing effect.

When the bell went, and she heard the familiar voice of her other mommy from next door, however, the game was up! We stood chatting just inside the back door for a while, waiting for Tuffkins to settle down. After a while, I called her, although I had my doubts that she would come inside, …. and I was amazed when she DID.

Her trust in me was cruelly betrayed, however, when we promptly trapped her in the towel. She fought back valiantly, and we couldn’t get a proper grip – it was like trying to hold onto a giant water balloon! So we released her in the hope that we could catch her again.

Bad idea.

Kittykins leapt through the open window and came to a halt at the other end of the garden.


Message to self: Close open windows and doors before attempting another ambush.

I went outside, talking quietly to her, showing her my empty hands. Nothing doing. She wasn’t interested. She stalked off in a huff, just ahead of me and out of my reach.

“Oh come on, Tuffy, help me here,” I pleaded. “This is for your own good.”

“Hrmphf, that’s what YOU think,” she snapped back at me crossly.

“Look, this is so embarrassing. Please play nice?” I begged.

“You betrayed me,” she sulked, looking at me with big, accusing eyes.

“I’ll make it up to you. How about some more chicken from Woollies…?” I was groveling.

“Not interested. Go away.”


Eventually, she allowed me near enough to stroke her. As soon as she spotted the towel, though, she scarpered. Luckily for us, we managed to corner her in the passage at the side of the house. Thanks to lightning reflexes and the realisation that we had ONLY ONE CHANCE to catch her, we managed to wrap her up in a tight towel papoose, with ALL her paws and claws pinned inside.

I sprinted into the kitchen to get the dropper bottle, and for the first time ever managed to prise open her mouth properly, and to squirt the stuff right into the back of her throat. She gave me a baleful glare, before wriggling free and escaping through the open door.

Thank heavens, one dose down. Another one to go, later this afternoon. And then tomorrow we repeat the whole thing again.

Tuffy hiding under the hibiscus

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