The husband was en route to an 8-day vacation in Canada when I got the news: Dewey Kitty was to take antibiotics twice a day for the next 10 days.
I would have to find some way to get 1.5 ml of pink, sticky liquid down his throat.
He was unsuspecting the first time, when I wrapped him in a towel and squirted it down his throat.
The second time he was ready. I've seen the way you wrap Christmas presents and you have no tape, he said, extracting a claws-extended back paw that gave me a few scratches before I got the medicine down.
The third time, I thought about tape, but tried the double towel wrap. I'm smarter than that, he said, extricating a front paw, giving me a left hook and a head shake. Who knew 1.5 ml could fly so far? The towel, counter and walls were dotted in pink.
The solution came when I spotted Dewey Kitty curled up in a box.
I filled the syringe, petted him, listened to him purr. Then, with his feet tucked in the box, I opened his mouth and squirted the antibiotics in. No problem.
That evening, I pointed to his box, and he hopped in. I petted him for a bit, and administered the medication. No problem.
Sometimes it pays to think inside the box.