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Where I am holed up with my friend’s cat, trying to get him to be okay with me so he doesn’t bite me again when I try to give him his insulin injection.
I am the “go to” person for all my friends who have cats with special needs. But this cat HATES me. I couldn’t get near him last night to give him his shot. He growled and hissed and I knew better. This morning he was still growling, but I was concerned about him missing two shots so I just kinda darted in and got him before he had a chance to react.
Then he bit me. It hurt. Not horribly. I’m fine. But I only got that one shot in because I had surprise on my side. He’s onto me now. So I’m sitting quietly with him in the bedroom with the door closed, trying to get him used to me.
That’s him on the floor, sleeping just a few feet away from me so, so far so good with plan I think. This cat has a gorgeous face. I’ll try to get a shot at some point.
I was the insulin injector queen for four years with my (now deceased) Maine Coon. But Smokey was very placid and would let anyone – cat sitters, vet techs, my mother – poke him with a needle.
But inquiring minds want to know – is that an oven in your bedroom?
Sneak up on the kitty, drop a huge, thick towel over his body; he will be subdued, and maybe you can inject him then. I’ve given medication that way, wrap the cat in a towel with the head sticking out — not much they can do to resist.
True, but then he will hate me and run from me!
Karen, that is an oven in my bedroom!! I tell the story here