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2006-09-14 || 1:22 p.m. || lovey. || and i think we might be approaching the final days of laverne the cat. she's been sick. she comes into the bathroom to sit at my feet while i brush my teeth, throws up all her food and then looks up at me and makes the purr sound. i just threw my guts up, but man i love you please pet me. she wakes me up every morning around five forty-five to headbutt my face and pace from my pillow to my feet, back and forth, purring that raspy old-lady rattle, sometimes stopping to get under the covers, leaning momentarily against my belly, kneading at my arm with sharp sharp claws. she meows and purrs and won't settle. only sometimes will she finally stop to lie on michael's back like she's reclining atop a chenille-covered mountain. we got her when she was a wee kitten twelve years ago. she had a brother named lenny who didn't return after a three-day brother-sister great-outdoors adventure. she knows how to fetch. she knows how to unlatch the door knobs at my parents' house. she is kind-hearted and affectionate to a fault. her hind toenails are too long for it to be lady like. i went home at lunch to batten down the hatches as a good bout of rain dumped on portland, and my computer sits perilously close to an open window. now that i've drawn the worst of conclusions from her three days of barfing, i instantly start crying when i see her. she didn't purr. she sniffed at food but didn't eat it. she wasn't in the mood to battle with nadju in the kitchen. it could be nothing. it could pass. she has hyperthyroidism and the medicine i reluctantly squish in her ear every night has side effects. in any case we will have ladies night. we will watch sad movies on the couch, fernie tucking her head the way she does under my boob, and we'll dump a little of our hot toddies out for the memory of meow meow, who left me this time last year. maybe i have bad cat luck. maybe it's nothing. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |