cats in agony

I'm used to taking lots of medicines. The cats aren't.

Tybalt went in to the vet for a teeth cleaning yesterday. He trotted in as usual in the morning to the bathroom where we keep the cat food, thinking he was going to be fed, but he was mistaken. (No food before a cleaning, because it requires anesthesia.) I'm used to the look of dismay and resignation he gives when I shut the bathroom door and then open up the shower stall in which I'd hidden the cat carrier the night before, but the yowls of agony he gave continuously from then on until I dropped him off were heartrending.

Then he came home with a tooth extracted and three medicines we have to squirt in orally twice a day for two weeks: a painkiller, an antibiotic, and a dental rinse. B. holds him and squeezes his mouth open, and I handle the syringes.

Tybalt has been a loving cat. Often he rests over on B's side of the bed, but whenever I lie down for a nap, if I'm lying on my right side so that I'm facing B's side, Tybalt will get up, saunter over, and snuggle down in my arms for a long petting session.

But I don't think that will happen any more, at least for a while. There weren't even any cats meowing for food when I got up this morning, over an hour after their default feeding time (B. was still asleep), and that's unprecedented. The medicine is upsetting Tybalt too much, and as for Maia, anything out of the ordinary freaks her out and she's gone, hiding somewhere.

It pains us to be upsetting our cats so, but what can we do? Besides give up on the medicine, which we probably will do long before the vet's instruction.