I love Sammy, but Sammy does not love me.

This might be because he's a cat, generally disdainful and aloof except, magically, at breakfast and dinner times, when he's apt to appear between my legs or under my feet at a moment's notice (whether to get my attention or to make me trip down the stairs is unclear).

It might be because it's Gerry, not me, who buckles under the constant mewing to fill his food bowl.

Lately, it's probably because I'm squirting medicine down his ears.

Our last trip to the vet -- itself an exercise in acrobatics and willpower on everybody's part -- was met with two pieces of bad news: Sammy might need to have several teeth extracted, a condition brought on by his advancing age -- 12, or 62 in crotchety cat years. And he has an ear infection.

The impending tooth extraction is ultimately more concerning, but it's the ear infection that had me groaning. Infection means antibiotics, and antibiotics mean cat wrangling, and cat wrangling means frustration. And Band-Aids.

So far, the process has been everything I suspected it would be and more.

Step 1: Fill two droppers with medicine, ready for a quick and (hopefully) painless (for me) administration into each ear.

Step 2: Find cat, likely hiding behind or under or on top of something just out of reach in an attempt to evade the medicine that will improve his health.

Step 3: Chase and catch cat, trying not to injure self in process. Ignore glare from cat.

Link:

Erica Erwin: Medicine makes for angry cat, exasperated owner