Gratuitous Domestic Posting (TM) - Cat's Meow Edition

One of our cats has some kind of chronic eye irritation thingy that requires a daily administration of eyedrops. Now, if it were solely up to me, she would have started walking into walls a long time ago. However, in that wonderful division of household chores that is supposed to be the secret of a healthy matrimonial state, the cat's medicine is one of the little jobs the Missus handles.

Except, of course, when she's not there.

Now before you felinephiles start cringing in anticipation, let me assure you that the Missus extracted a promise from me that I would dose the cat while she was gone. Furthermore, I've stuck to that promise. I may say, however, that I enjoy giving the cat her drops about as much as she enjoys getting them, which is to say, not at all, atall.

For those of you who are curious, the trick to doing this solo is to get her up on a counter and wrap the left arm around her backside, holding her chin up with the left fingers and her neck steady with the left thumb, meanwhile leaning down on her to keep her from springing straight up. This leaves the right hand completely free to bring in the dropper. I only get one shot, but it is enough.

The curious thing is that she lets me do this every day. It's not as if I continually surprise her, as we go through exactly the same routine each morning: she watches me shave, then, as I'm donning socks and whatnot, she scratches her back on the underside of my chest of drawers. After some mandatory scratches behind her ears, she comes out from under it to have me rub her tummy. The heft up to the counter is the next step after this, and then bango, the drops. I know she hates it, but I also know that she knows it's coming.

I can only suppose that her desire for the attention outweighs her dislike of the treatment. (I believe there's a term for this among psychologists.) And no doubt she's saving up her resentment for the time when she feels she no longer needs me.