Hiko's doing so much better, now. Today's his last day for the amoxi, and we've only got to worry about the metro. I've gotten pretty good, though, at syringing that stuff down his throat before he even REALIZES. Cuts the gagging, pawing at the mouth, squeaking fits down from a minute+ to about 15 seconds, and then he's back to being himself.
I have noticed that since he's feeling better that Yogi's resuming his little attacks. Three nights ago, Yogi and Hiko got into it before I had even tried putting them up for the night. I could tell by Yogi's small, pissy-attitude shrunken eyes that he was just MAD for no reason. That night I decided not to even try caging them together, because they could not settle even for a bit.
The other night, I did cage them, and they did fine until about 5 or 6 in the morning, when I was awoken by Hiko's screams of alarm. I waited it out (it was brief), but Hiko was very pace-y afterwards, so I decided that I'd let him out and keep the Triad caged. It was fine.
Last night, I had tilapia for their dinner, and everyone was excited. I put the bowl in the Triad's cage, and the girls and Hiko immediately get to eating. Yogi takes this time to sniff at Hiko. He doesn't eat with them, but goes upstairs to wait. After a while, he heads back down. Hiko's on the shelf with Sian and so Yogi finishes the food with Pixie. Then he gets onto the shelf with Hiko and Sian. At this point, Hiko's laying stretched out, staring at me like, "WHY am I locked in here again?" and Sian's sitting directly behind him. When she sees Yogi approaching with that, "hahahahahaha, I'll get HIM" look, she stretches over Hiko's back, and covers his neck so Yogi can't roll him. She stays that way until Yogi loses interest. I think it was her fert-y way of saying, "hey, okay, we're all supposed to just SLEEP in here. No funny business allowed."
It worked. They made it through the night with no screeching or upsets. I woke up to find Hiko in the first floor hammock, and the other three in the pillowcases (which they had dragged down from upstairs) on the shelf right next to him.
Other than that, I'm left o_O and wondering why babies can't understand that a piddle pad WITH POO ON is not a damn wrestling mat. 'CAUSE IT'S NOT, BBS. IT'S REALLY NOT.
You can't convince them of that, though. And you can't actually STOP them, either. I just watched a five minute match, where they made sure to roll EVERYWHERE.