Dude, Take A Pill

There has been a centuries-long debate, fiercely fought, hotly contested, over an issue many hold strong opinions on. I’m pleased to announce a solution that will please each side of the divide. Here at The 1912 House Labs, we have devised the perfect way to deliver pills to a dog who hates taking any medication way too much.

First a little background; the dog’s job around here is chasing birds AND cats AND lizards AND bugs out of the backyard while we’re away. He does a fine job, certainly (you don’t see any birds around here, do you?), but there are occupational hazards. He cut the corner of the house a little too tightly while racing after something or other and wound up with a bit of shingle embedded in his side. The problem was that this chunk of lumber was embedded along the line parallel to his ribcage, so I didn’t notice it until it became infected.

The dog didn’t mind though and never lost a step, but there was that ninety-year-old cedar riding around in there and it had to go. I did a little doctorin’ and took out a huge piece of wood that was a little thicker and longer than a matchstick.

Exploratory surgery was scheduled for today at the vet, but postponed a week to see if the drugs will work. Oh, the drugs. Nickel slugs of antibiotics, one and a half, twice daily for a week or so. I’ve seen too many rejected, slobber-coated pills skitter across the kitchen floor to let that happen again. How could he be fooled into downing them as quickly as any other treat? The answer was threefold: sugar, adhesive, and texture. A spoonful of sugar, blah, blah, blah, but it mostly works. Peanut butter has that in spades along with an adhesive quality to keep those damn horse pills in place. The big secret here? Tortilla chips! Crunchy, like the pills themselves, plus they have a gentle curves to hold a as much peanut butter and as many drugs as you can load onto them.

Funny, but the dog never even noticed that the chips are stale. That, and the infection is going down.

Your relieved pal,

bob