I love my cat. Phryne is discerning, suspicious, and haughty; everything one wishes for in a cat. As she’s gotten older, she’s become slightly more cuddly, mostly with me. While she has never liked getting picked up, she loves to nap with me, usually curling up on the most tender or sore portion of my body as she claims me for a resting place.
I love her dearly, but this week I have to answer the question, “How much?”
Do I love Phryne more than a new pair of shoes or a convention ticket? Yes
Do I love Phryne more than a short vacation? Yes
Do I love Phryne more than a semester of college?
I don’t want to have to answer that question. want an easy fix, a way for her to get better quickly. I want her to put some weight back on. She’s still the same kitty, disturbing foot fetish and all. She’s not quite as rambunctious, but that could just be her age. Sh’es not a kitten anymore.
Is it cancer? Is it just some form of IBS that requires a steroid regimen? Who knows?
This is not the week I wanted to deal with this. We have pets because we love them. We hurt when they hurt because we love them. I know the answer isn’t to cut myself off from love and caring for good, but it sure feels like that sometimes.