We had to take Aliss to the vet this week; she has been pulling out her fur, and has little spots on her body.
She got very bad before Christmas, but recovered beautifully after we had rehomed the Senior cats, so we put it down to stress. But now she is bad again – not as bad, but we certainly don’t want to see her get in a state again. So off to the vet with her.
Yes, she has a rash, no they have no idea why. They gave us Clavaseptin antibiotics for her, which they claimed were palatable. Oh, and 15 quids worth of flea spray, which entirely matches the one I already have. I shall see if they’ll take it back.
Palatable, eh? We know better than that, don’t we? We used the pill popper for the first two, but she hated it. And so, more in a spirit of despair than anything else, last night Pete tried just putting the pill in his hand.
She took it … with every evidence of enjoyment. And this morning, she took it from me too.
Hurrah, I think. Apart from the £50 bill.
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