Can someone please tell me how my cats know it’s flea treatment day?
After a Sunday morning lie in, I enter the kitchen like any other weekend. “Good morning ladies”, I say cheerfully.
They are most likely still asleep in their igloos, or perhaps waiting at the door. The same as any other day. And yet they already seem to know.
We play this faux game, the ‘I’m going to pretend to feed you, but I have to apply the flea treatment first’. They aren’t really playing the game, it’s only me.
Neither cat comes running to their food dishes as normal. Rather, each remain sulking under the kitchen table.
I resort to crawling around after them, trying to get in easy reach. The palava continues for some time.
Eventually we get it done, but their scowls will remain for the rest of the day. At least until dinner time.
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