Before city sewer, water, streets, curbs and all that rot found me here, I had a stray that earned his keep by holding down the mouse population. When he became a regular in the house (winter is tough on a cat, and someone had spent money to declaw and neuter him) I decided to see he got a rabies shot when needed. The vet was somewhat insistant that he get "all his medicine", inspite of my informing her the only disease I was worried about on her list was rabies, for, I thought, obvious reason. "But he NEEDS all his medicines!" I replied "The only medicine over and above a rabies shot he will ever get says 12 gauge on the bottom of it".
He moused around here for almost two decades after that incident, and when his time came (he went from 28 lbs to about 6) his "medicine" said 22 long rifle on it, actually. I "buried" him in a paper grocery store bag in the green can that goes by the curb on Sunday night.
He earned his keep.
Best,
Ted
