Again, pre-empting my New Year's and UP Centennial blog posts, something about cats:

The boys got neutered last week (finally), and with surgery comes the need for antibiotics, orally administered with syringes. The vet at PAWS prescribed a one-week antibiotic course, which meant seven days of holding down a caterwauling creature while you pumped its mouth full of drugs. Amoxicillin is particularly vile stuff, and doubly hard to administer than ascorbic acid syrup.

And then I hit upon a brilliant idea.

There's a small window of opportunity after a cat is soothed to a point where his eyes are half-closed, which is the perfect time to jam the syringe into his mouth and pump away. To do so, one must stroke the cat, whispering in your most soothing voice, "False sense of security. Pack of lies. Treachery. Betrayal."

Some French also helps.

And it really does work! It used to be a three-person job: two to hold the feline down, and one to administer the medication. Today, I held the boys while Dante gave them the antibiotics. Very little struggling. *nodnods*

Every so often, it helps to pick them up and whisper the above phrases (and whatever nefarious utterances you can think of) even when they're not about to be drugged. It helps to keep the poor buggers guessing. *wink*