Through no fault of their own cats are not the easiest of patients. When Banjo was discharged after his operation, James, the vet, gave me a packet of antibiotic tablets with instructions that he was to be given two twice daily. It must have come as no surprise to those in the veterinary clinic when I rang up to say that their patient was refusing to take his medication, even though it was buried at the centre of a delicious meatball.
My experience of taking antibiotics at a time when treatment made me abnormally sensitive to smell has made me more sympathetic to cats. My antibiotics smelt so disgustingly of mould, the only way I could take them without being sick was to keep my nose pinched tightly with one hand while putting a tablet in my mouth with the other and immediately washing it down with water.
For most of the ten days following his operation I brought Banjo to the clinic for an injection. After Sherpa’s operation she was given a single injection of a slow-release antibiotic, for which I was deeply grateful.
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