Daily Duties

            The pharmacy technician didn’t even blink when I told her I was there to pick up the prescription for my brother’s cougar.

            I always kind of wonder what the reaction will be.  I mean, the situation could seem a little out of the ordinary.  But Eiger, John’s 150-pound cougar, has severe arthritis and needs his Tramadol.  I don’t mind picking up the prescription, but I draw the line at administering the medicine.

            Delivering the medicine to John’s house, I noted the dead chicken on his back porch.  I wonder which cougar will get that treat tonight.  Let’s see . . . Homer (or was it Craiger?) got the last chicken.  John doesn’t like to give chickens to Talina because of the feather factor.  (She’s the one with the indoor cage.)  I don’t think Eiger eats whole chickens anymore, so that leaves either Craiger (or is it Homer?) or Tiva to enjoy the black-feathered tasty treat.

            I’m done with my cougar duties for the day.  I decided not to open the sliding cage door between Tiva’s and Eiger’s enclosures:  I doubt either one will venture from their heated platforms in this snowy weather anyway. 

            I did, however, remind Mom to take the trash out to the curb in her golf cart.