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Prozac in the Ears (and on my fingertips)

pantaloons cleaning miss meepers

The only thing worse about somebody that has cats is somebody who writes about cats.

So, let’s get started.

If you’re new to this blog, you might not be aware of the seemingly endless saga of my cat peeing outside her litter pan.  This is particularly bothersome because I am a fantastic owner.  My ex-wife is also a veterinarian.  But before I left this weekend for a trip, Pantaloons was kind enough to pee on both the beds in my condo.  Within sixteen hours.

Now, I love my cat.  She’s fantastic.  Plus she worships the dog, and when the dog and I arrive home from work, she races over and rubs up against both of us.  They sleep together and she’s one of those cats who purrs all the time.  So, she’s not a shithead.

Well, she is a shithead when it comes to peeing outside the box.  I’ve tried many different solutions from cat repellent to adding a second litter box, buying the good cat litter, closing off doors, playing with her more to satisfy her predatory nature, all sorts of crap.  I’ve had her tested multiple times for UTIs and other health issues.

The only thing that has worked is fluoxetine.  Better known as Prozac, for some reason it is incredibly effective at making cats pee where they should.  Nobody exactly knows why.  And hey, I believe in medicine.  Medicine is a good thing.  Especially psychoactive ones that correct goofy brains.

And I’m convinced that’s all this is.  The fact that when I brought her home as a kitten she ran over to the dog and started licking him was probably a sign.  She’s never hissed, and is sweet as a boysenberry.

But some people just have goofy heads.  She has a goofy head.

The problem is that cats hate taking medicine.  At first I was shoving a syringe down her throat and pumping in the liquid dose.  After a week of this she was hiding from me every day.  Not good.  Then I tried putting the pills in treats, but cats are smart.  They figure out what you’re doing within a few weeks and stop eating treats.

There is one additional solution.  A transdermal goo that you rub inside her ears that goes right into her bloodstream.  There haven’t been studies on whether this actually works, but I’m game for anything.

The other thing I did was buy a bunch of painter’s canvases.  I’ve never painted a day in my life.  I’m not above doing that, but I would screw up my floors.  And the walls.

Every morning I will cover my bedspreads with these tarps and that way I can leave the home free for her to roam.  Hopefully the meds kick in within a week or two and I can take the covers off.

My ex was telling me to make sure I bought latex gloves to administer the dosage.  She said it will go right into my bloodstream as well.  I already take meds.  I’m not afraid of a little Prozac.  Plus, those rubber gloves feel weird.

And maybe it will lift my spirits a little.  God knows I don’t want to do it through heavy emotional work, therapy, diet and exercise!

pantaloons cleaning miss meepers

She cleans me the same way after I fall asleep. I don't dislike it.

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