This morning we opened the door to Harry de Cat. He lurched in with a young robin in his slavering jaws. Bert kicked him up the arse and the robin fell from his maw. We closed Harry in the house and took the robin outside. It was stunned, covered in cat slabbers but alive. Bert laid it down gently on the drystone wall and the wee bugger flew off!
"Why can't you hunt rats and mice...and squirrels?" Bert asked the cat. Harry made him no reply and leapt on the cat feeding surface and roared for Kitty Treats.
Oh the wee birds are lovely but - hoochin with worms. And natch so is Harry which is why he's always hungry. Bert says the pet shop girl's worm treatments are no good and that we should take Harry to the vet for a good strong cure. "Like being put down," I suggested.
Now Bert has told me a terrible thing and I'm too scared to look it up in case it's true. He says that the roundworms that Harry gets from the birds and rodents can drop out of his bum and dessicate. Then if they are ingested they rehydrate and off they go again laying their horrible eggs and so on. Bert says they can lie dormant and dried up for six months or more. I asked him where he heard this and he said "I read it in a book." I said I hoped it was the Book of Lies.
Showing posts with label worms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label worms. Show all posts
Monday, July 25, 2005
Friday, November 12, 2004
Worms
The other day Harry de Cat produced 6 inches of finest tapeworm. Not long afterwards Bert came retching into the den saying that Harry had jumped up beside him while he was on the phone and the next thing he knew there was a disgusting roundworm slithering about making faces at him. Something would have to be done.
So we banished Harry de Cat from the house, I parazoned all the surfaces and then visited the local Pet Shop. The Pet Shop Girl bounded out to meet me, as keen as several barrels of mustard.
“How can I help you?”
“It’s my cat. He’s got worms.”
“Tape or round?”
“Both.”
“Right. I have the very thing.”
She then proceeded to tell me more than I wanted to know about the process of infestation. Cats who hunt are very prone to getting worms from their prey and it seems that birds are the worst offenders.
“Lovely looking, but riddled with worms.”
“Mice?”
“Riddled. Alive with every sort of worm going.”
You’d wonder how they get them fitted in.
A mine of information this PSG. All I wanted to know was the chances of me getting them. I know I could do with losing weight but I’d rather be fat than riddled with worms. But I was reassured that it would be very difficult for a human to become infested with cat-type worms. Wrong kind of worms, apparently. She didn’t say but I got the impression that I’d actually have to lick the cat’s anus. As if!
She goes on…
“How are you intending to get the tablets into your cat?”
“Well the last time I tried to give him tablets I put them in his food and he totally refused to eat it. This time I’m thinking of wrapping him in a towel and ramming the tablets down his throat.”
She nodded wisely.
“It’s the only way.”
The PSG had advised me to weigh the cat and give him the dosage appropriate to his weight. He was 12lbs. I requested Bert’s help to administer the dosage and he was filled with delight. He has a love-hate relationship with Harry (who used to piss on him) and relished the prospect of a bit of ethical cat-annoying. I wrapped and Bert rammed. Harry de Cat was outraged but soon recovered his equilibrium. Immediately afterwards he jumped on to a chair and sat there flicking his tail and grooming himself. “What could you do to really annoy that cat?” Bert asked. “Set his tail on fire,” I suggested.
He is to get another dose next Friday, then another the Friday after that. Shall I take photographs?
So we banished Harry de Cat from the house, I parazoned all the surfaces and then visited the local Pet Shop. The Pet Shop Girl bounded out to meet me, as keen as several barrels of mustard.
“How can I help you?”
“It’s my cat. He’s got worms.”
“Tape or round?”
“Both.”
“Right. I have the very thing.”
She then proceeded to tell me more than I wanted to know about the process of infestation. Cats who hunt are very prone to getting worms from their prey and it seems that birds are the worst offenders.
“Lovely looking, but riddled with worms.”
“Mice?”
“Riddled. Alive with every sort of worm going.”
You’d wonder how they get them fitted in.
A mine of information this PSG. All I wanted to know was the chances of me getting them. I know I could do with losing weight but I’d rather be fat than riddled with worms. But I was reassured that it would be very difficult for a human to become infested with cat-type worms. Wrong kind of worms, apparently. She didn’t say but I got the impression that I’d actually have to lick the cat’s anus. As if!
She goes on…
“How are you intending to get the tablets into your cat?”
“Well the last time I tried to give him tablets I put them in his food and he totally refused to eat it. This time I’m thinking of wrapping him in a towel and ramming the tablets down his throat.”
She nodded wisely.
“It’s the only way.”
The PSG had advised me to weigh the cat and give him the dosage appropriate to his weight. He was 12lbs. I requested Bert’s help to administer the dosage and he was filled with delight. He has a love-hate relationship with Harry (who used to piss on him) and relished the prospect of a bit of ethical cat-annoying. I wrapped and Bert rammed. Harry de Cat was outraged but soon recovered his equilibrium. Immediately afterwards he jumped on to a chair and sat there flicking his tail and grooming himself. “What could you do to really annoy that cat?” Bert asked. “Set his tail on fire,” I suggested.
He is to get another dose next Friday, then another the Friday after that. Shall I take photographs?
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