The Cats Will Play

Things were in a sorry state for a little bit.

Taylor spent the entire weekend at the vet's. I could have flown to Paris, stayed at a nice little hotel and stuffed myself silly with macarons for what it cost, but, meh. I signed up for this.

I had many chirpy messages from Dr. Knightly. I love her. The cats love her. Every time she left me a message it went along the lines of "Taylor is such a love, but she still feels kind of low. Every time I open her cage, she gives that little chirp and comes to give me head butts."

I took in the fact that I don't think Taylor loves me this much. Possibly, I don't love her as much as Dr. Knightly does. I thought about this. When I went to pick up Taylor, I got all somber and said, "I don't do this lightly. In fact, I've only done it once before in my life [Katy and M the Perfect Roomie, who were made for each other]. But if you think Taylor would be better off with you, if you want her, I will let her go." I hastened to add that of course I would still be responsible for the bill Taylor'd just run up.

Dr. Knightly was a little overwhelmed. Even though I know she has to have heard this hundreds of times before. She said, "My husband would put me out with the recycling if I brought home another cat. I have six as it is." I said I understood. She excused herself for a moment, then came back.

Taylor was presented to me. Oh, she was not a happy camper. I imagine I wouldn't be either, if I'd gone through what she had. Twice.

I worried about her. Yesterday morning, I had to bring her out into the kitchen. She looked at me and wobbled back to bed. Last night, she found me. This morning, she wobbled out on her own. This evening, she met me at the door.

The last couple of evenings, I've spent some time playing with the cats. You should see Gus light up when he sees (through his cataract-y eyes) the feather-on-a-string toy come out. Dylan will kill himself chasing the thing. For his birthday, I think I'm going to give him a bunch of feathers for him to gut.

Brianna emerged from the basement to chase the laser. Blue is on to me. He just blinked up at me. I know you have a laser pointer in your hand, he blinked smugly.

I hear Sophie in the never-ending chase for the ball in a circle.

It'll be Spring soon. Time to wake up.