Toby in the glow of a monitor

It's been five weeks since Toby began his chemo treatment. It amazes my wife and I how well he has been handling not only the nasty chemicals, but the pill delivery as well.  Every other day (except on weekends) my wife dons the surgical gloves as she prepares his chemo pill in the tablet syringe (a long tube shaped device with a rubbery tip where the pill fits in a slot) while I hunt for the cat. 

We have rules around this near-daily event.

• Don't mention his name.
• Don't make eye contact with Toby.
  
• Don't take him from a 'safe zone' to get his pill (like from my lap where he is resting.)
  
• Do place him on the metal-topped kitchen table gently and hold him firmly.

At this point, a plaintive meowrl is heard. Just once. His strong muscles bulge as he tries to escape from my arms. No luck on his part.  This is too important to have him run off without the pill. My wife slides the pill shooter to the back of his throat and clicks the plunger. We walt and make sure he swallows.

Then this amazing thing happens.  I release him and he stays on the table, looking at me. He does not run off and hide. A pet or two from us and he starts purring, jumps down to the floor and wanders the kitchen. Like nothing had happened.

Normally with chemo, you hear the horror stories of  a cat's behavior changing as their owner tries to keep up with these treatments. Not with Toby. If anything, he has become more affectionate, hanging out with me more than ever.  He even is hanging out with both of us on the couch more, sitting between us, front paws elegantly crossed.

There's another lucky thing: little or no vomiting soon after the pill event.  We've had only one 'Jackson Pollack' event from him.  Right in my work chair. OK, so maybe he is thinking about a little revenge...