Q: What should be prescribed for a cat that has a runny nose and is lethargic?

A: I had the same problem about eight years ago. Drove me crazy. Couldn't solve it. Stayed up all night trying everything I could think of, every home remedy and old wives tale. every long shot strategy, every wild plan randomly chosen from the Bible. Nothing worked. My son still laid on the ground, still and cold and dead as the day that garbage truck ran him over.

I probably should have said this sooner, but when I said "I had the same problem," I meant, "I had a similar problem, expect instead of a cat it was my son and instead of having a head cold and being lazy, he was dead and grey matter leaked from the fractures in his skull." But otherwise, exactly the same.

Anyway, as you understand, seeing a loved one in pain or dead can be a terrifying experience. You feel helpless, like the whole world's crashing down on you.  But I was not going to give up and take my son's condition lying down. I knew what I had to do:  travel to Haiti to try and harness the power of voodoo.

The trip was a bit of a disaster. I angered a local voodoo priest who drove nails into my scrotum and poisoned me with voodoo drugs, turning me into a zombie. They made a movie about it. Maybe you've seen it. RoboCop.

Obviously they changed a few things.

Once I got back to the states, I used all my acquired voodoo knowledge to revive my son. By this time, he was in a bad shape. My wife turned off the cooling system and he began to rot. The vermin got to him. And the neighbors. And the neighbors pets. There was a thunderstorm. We had some flooding. When I got home he was less a son and more of a black son puddle that gave off fumes that would blind you. He was not responsive to the voodoo.

Now, I had two choices: I could stay in that basement, feel sorry for myself, and slowly go blind. Or, I could suck it up, scrape my son sludge off the floor and get on with my life. I chose option B. I got on with my life. Just because I couldn't bring my son back didn't mean I wasn't a father. I had a new son. And another. And another. I didn't stop until I had fourteen children by twelve women. That's how you deal with grief. Once I was done fathering, I left the kids with their mothers, bought this pet shop and settled in for the good life.

It's time for you to face the truth. Your cat's not going to make. Sure I could give you some medicine and some fancy wet food to improve his health and boost his energy. But how long will he last? Ten years? Twelve maybe? Best say goodbye now and move on. What better way to move on with your life than by buying twenty cats?

Please buy the twenty cats. They're only five hundred bucks each.

Ten? Please?

Do you have any idea how much I pay in child support?