Nothing is more pathetic than the looks Andy gives me when he realizes it’s time for his medicine. Regardless, it’s for his best, so I rub his ears and whiskers, talk softly to him, rock him like a baby, then say the five (six?) words he doesn’t want to hear: “We gotta do it, Andy….”
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Poor kitty! (That’s Dougy coming in to the room because he knows Andy gets kitty treats after his medicine. Dougy sneaks a few for himself!
Oh dear! Andy’s laying the “poor kitty” guilt trip on me, and how!
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Stop staring at me, kitty!”
“We gotta do it, Andy!”
After a bit of a struggle, Andy is a good boy, takes his medicine, then hops down to the floor to wait for his kitty treats. Whew! We got through that hassle for one more day!
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