Andy must have told Dougy a story because Dougy definitely wasn’t as easy to corner as I thought he’d be!

I took a mug over to the kitchen sink, then doubled back to the spot where I give the boys their Greenies treats. Dougy’d stopped by there moments before I went to the kitchen, but finished the Greenies Andy left before I doubled back.

I sat down on a chair by the table, gave a little thought to a new development. Dougy, when he saw me come back, hopped on a section of cottonwood branch the boys like to perch on. It’s only two or three inches high, but it seems to meet some cat perch specification because the boys “argue” about which cat gets it every chance they can.

Had Dougy eaten too many Greenies to be lulled into my flea, tick, and heartworm treatment plot? Andy tends to eat all the treats if Dougy doesn’t come over for his share fast enough, the treats are that tasty! Dougy sat on the cottonwood perch and eyed me warily.

“You want some more Greenies, Dougy?” I asked. I shaked the bag, the way I let the boys know I’m about to put out treats. With their cat-sharp hearing, they come running from anywhere in the apartment when I shake the bag. Andy came back to just outside his safety zone in case he needed to run from me. No trusting me today! Not after that indignity!

Dougy sat there, immobile with indecision. He noticed Andy’s nervousness. I think he snooped at the trash where the discarded treatment tube used on his brother was, too, and his cat-sniffer recognized the unwelcome scent. As noted in part 1, cats are not stupid!

Little by little, enticement by enticement, I thought Dougy was about to get down on the floor to eat more treats. Then he curled up on the perch.

I thought about it. At worse, I’d miss the opportunity by moving toward Dougy too fast or by under-estimating how securely I could hold him down by the nape of his neck when he wasn’t stretched out straight. At best, though, I could surprise Dougy, secure him by the nape of his neck, and squeeze the treatment between his shoulder blades without incident!

Whew! A rush of adrenalin took me to Dougy’s safe spot (he thought). I grabbed the loose skin of the nape of his neck, squirted the treatment out so fast he didn’t have a chance to protest, and like a rodeo cowboy tying off three legs of a calf in the calf roping event, I tossed up my arms to show I’d completed the task! WOOHOO! I set a new record!

This was the best fleas, ticks, and heartworm day ever. I’m glad I watched how their veterinarian secured Andy the last I took him in. I used his technique today with great success! I mean, if a veterinarian wants to have good control of a kitty any time more than any other, it has to be when he takes the cat’s temperature! (You do know how they do that, don’t you?!)