It was a big weekend. A birthday. An anniversary.
It was also a working weekend.
Today, before starting work, I took a run to Tractor Supply to buy some medicine for that cat. I also bought some of the fancy cat food. I figured that would guarantee that he got the whole dose. Tim flinched a little at the register, but I reminded him that it was a special weekend.
I looked for that cat when I got home. Tim said, "Well, he's around here somewhere. The robins are all riled up."
Not much later, I saw a black cat sitting under the truck. I went in and mixed up the medication into his food and set it outside for him, and ducked back into the house so as not to scare him off.
That cat so loved the fancy cat food that he carried the dish away to lick it clean.
I'd have been thrilled about this, except for one thing: It seems that I've been feeding more than one black cat, and the cat that got dosed was not the right black cat.
Nothing is ever as easy as you think it's going to be, is it?
We worked at the apartment. It's a good feeling to be at the 'putting it all back together' stage.