I thought you might enjoy the story of Tuffy and the worm pill.

Tuffy (RB, unfortunately) was the wonderful result of a momma cat with some
Siamese in her and - well, God knows what, but he was big.  Tuffy had the
Siamese markings, but a more stocky body and a medium-length coat.  He
tipped the scales at 15 solid pounds for most of his life.  He was afraid of
NOTHING.  The neighborhood dogs gave him a wide berth, and there were NO
neighborhood cats.  I honestly thought we were the only cat family for a
long time.  The local kitties just didn't come around.

Tuffy was boss cat around here from day one.  He quickly tuned the adult
cats up and had my husband and I pretty well trained as well.  He was smart,
and strong.  He liked to hunt, and ate what he caught (except for certain
mysterious bits which he left for me).  As a result, he had worms a few
times.

One morning I spotted a "grain of rice" clinging to the fur near his butt.
I called my vet and said "Tuffy's got worms, can I just come and get a
pill?" because Tuffy was NOT easy to take to the vet.  TED agreed that he
would leave the pill at the desk and I could administer it.  I chatted with
the counter lady while I picked up the medication, as it had been a long
time since any of the cats had needed attention and many of the staff were
new.

I brought home the single, large pill.  I knew I couldn't just shove that
big pill down his throat (he'd choke for sure) so I cut it in two.  First
half - tried the old pull back the head and shove it in there method.
First, Tuffy had a very strong neck, and very strong jaws so this was not as
easy as you might think.  After quite a tussle, I got the pill positioned at
the back of his tongue.  For a second, then he spit it out.  The next time I
tried it, he was a long smarter about struggling - twisting, hopping,
clawing with the front paws (also pretty muscular) until I just shoved it in
the side of his mouth.  With a look of utter contempt he deposited the pill
on the floor and walked a short distance away.  I can't describe the look on
his face.  "You'll have to do better than that, old girl" he said.

So I greased it up with butter - no better luck.  By this time it was
starting to disintegrate so I crushed it up and folded it cleverly into a
dollop of canned cat food.  He tried to bury it, looking at me pityingly.

I knew that half of a worm pill wasn't going to do much good, so I called
the vet's office.  He was out on a farm call, so I explained  to the counter
lady "Look, I can't give Tuffy this pill.  Can I bring him in, and you guys
can do it?"  The vet's assistant couldn't believe it.  "You can't give a CAT
a pill?" she asked in a superior voice.

"Tuffy's a pretty strong cat" I explained (I didn't want to scare her off!)

"Bring him in" she said, obviously feeling I was a pretty lame excuse for an
adult.

I could barely squeeze Tuffy into our carrier.  I got him to the vet's
office and the assistant sized him up.  (He looked pretty innocent and
fluffy with his big blue eyes)  We went into one of the examination rooms.
She opened the carrier and reached in to get him.  He was a gentleman, no
claws, but he just braced his feet behind the edge of the door and she
couldn't budge him.

She called the counter lady in.  I stepped back (let the professionals work,
I always say) and the two of them worked out their strategy - "You hold the
cage on end, and I'll grab his legs" - but it didn't work.  Tuffy had too
many legs, and all of them knew what to do.  They called in the other worker
and had her hold the carrier on end (at one point she was shaking it up and
down!) and one of the ladies unhitched his front legs and the other
unhitched his back legs, and they finally got him out.  (FYI - I would have
taken the top off the carrier and ended the struggle 10 minutes earlier, but
I'm not a professional)

Okay, the cats' out but the pill ain't in yet.  They have realized that this
is no ordinary cat, so among the three of them they figure out a game plan
that involves one being in charge of legs, one being in charge of the mouth,
and one being in charge of the pill.  I'm giggling like a mad fool (I'm
paying for this and I'll laugh if I damn well please) while they - I'm
serious! - went through a couple of pills before they got one down him.
True, it was a whole, big pill and he didn't choke but it was still three to
one and Tuffy almost won anyway.  The vet's assistant told me, with dignity,
that Tuffy was hard to pill because "he has a very long muzzle."  I made her
agree with me that it would not have been possible to do it by myself
(getting her back for her tone of voice on the phone) and I gladly paid for
the pill (they didn't charge me for the administering the pill!!  I think
there was pride involved here) and Tuffy and I went home.  And he didn't
have worms anymore.  The End.