Our little Mia Cat is poorly.
She wasn’t her usual chirpy self for a couple of days so I took her to the vets where it was confirmed that she had a temperature. Two injections and a small fortune later she’s feeling better enough to eat a portion of chicken the size of her head and to send a few plant pots flying whilst chasing a bee.
The only issue is that we’re off on holiday on Friday, and she’s on a course of antibiotics, in tablet form, until Saturday. Our kind neighbours are feeding them for the weekend until the cat sitters take over, but aren’t cat owners themselves and have no idea that they’re about to get a lesson in how to get tablets down a reluctant cat’s throat.
I’m buttering them up with baked goods.
There’s some brownies planned for later in the week when I have to break this news to them.
I’ve told the naughty cat that he has to be nice and give Mia lots of cuddles. It lasts for precisely the amount of time required to take a photo before he starts biting her ears.
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