A Spoonful of Sugar

Mary Poppins said a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.  In my house, with my patient, a buttered pill followed by a soft doggie treat, accompanied by a lot of patience, has gotten us through the past couple of weeks.  Because of Bessie Anne's sore throat, she's been on a soft food diet instead of her regular kibble.  All well and good.  The problem is this:  Frank and Pearl know the sound of the treat bag being opened and four times a day they've shown up at my feet.  "Where's ours?  How come she gets a treat and we don't?"  Envisioning a picket line with placards saying, "Unfair to cats," I've been handing out treats left and right.  Then there's the canned-food situation.  "We like beef in gravy!  We want turkey strips!  You like her better than us.  Where's ours?"  To keep them from ganging up on Bess and eating her dinner, I put a spoonful in their dish too.  The last pill will be administered this morning, and I'm weaning Bessie back to her kibble by partially softening it with water.  All this special treatment is coming to a screeching halt.  If anyone drives by and sees "Occupy Fair Play" or "Farview Unfair" signs, I can explain.