So B! and I have officially become slave nursemaids to our eldest cat, That Jake. We are giving him liquid antibiotics four times daily, injecting SQ fluid once nightly, and generally monitoring his progress while he recovers from what sounds like some kind of liver failure. He explains it very well on his Facebook page, a few scrolls down… I don’t really understand it, though. That Jake is so damn smart.

Bottom line is that we have to do all this crap, and we don’t know how, and that doctor at the hospital last Friday only showed us once and I was too scared to watch. And I feel all the time like I’m doing everything WRONG, because he practically foams at the mouth every time we give him an antibiotic (which, remember, is 4x/day), and you can just imagine how he feels about my piercing him with a hollow needle. Every night. For the next eight nights. He’d yowl in the most pitiful way, we’d force in a meager .5ml, and he’d squirm his way out of our grasp. The whole thing leaves me lightheaded, honestly – I seriously hate needles.

In despair one night, I turned to the only teacher I could find that didn’t charge an exam fee: The Internet.

The problem is, The Internet is a liar.

Like seriously? LOOK at this cat.

THAT DUDE IS ONE-HANDING IT! Like, he’s not even holding the cat DOWN! Wtf, Jake would be out of there so fast, and he’d probably take a couple of your fingers and half your shirt with him.

That’s just the kind of badass he is. And he reminds us. Every. Night.