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Mood: Neutral ]
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Currently: Working a job I like a lot… ]

This week has seen my wife and I moved into a house we’ll be renting for six months before we buy it and live there a long time. That’s the good in a nutshell.
In the past three days, we’ve seen our black and white cat (my wife’s for six years before I met her, and mine since then–what can I say? The cat chose me) grow lethargic, lose her appetite, more details I will withhold, but if you’ve had a pet get sick, you have an idea what I may be going through without me providing details.
This silky-coated cat stole my heart from the day we met. She stalked me in her one bedroom apartment, sneaking up on me and glaring, then freezing in place with her eyes glued to me when I happened to notice her. She froze, looking daggers at me, saying with her huge, yellow-rimmed black eyes, "You can’t see me. I’m standing still. Go about your business. I’ll continue stalking you momentarily." It never failed to bring me to teary laughter.
She liked to get onto whatever furniture might have a book, remote control, or magazine left on it–especially on an arm–so she could poke it with a paw until it dropped off to crash onto the floor. At this point, as if she had no clue what would happen, she’d look wide-eyed at the nearest human, "Did you drop that? Did you know it was going to hit the floor so hard? You really shouldn’t leave things on the arms of chairs, you know." My wife has never been enamored of this behavior, as it saw a signed Ray Bradbury novel dropped into a bathtub once…
My kitty has five favorite things.
First, hiding under covers. She’s a spelunker. The darker the hole leading under the blankets, the better. Finding a lump under the conforter when I entered the bedroom? Hilarious.
Second, the sun. Preferably the hottest afternoon sun available, through the thinnest glass window, so more heat could be absorbed by the black in her coat.
Third, her toy. One of those "gone fishin’" contraptions made by Hartz. Hers has no bell–a popular feature on the newer models. Hers need only the rod and a long string, with a ribbon tied to the end. That ribbon has been through hell, mainly at her paws and teeth. She’ll attack it with the ferocity of a starved panther. She’ll drag it around in her mouth if she feels ignored.
Fourth, sleeping above my head in the bed, preferably on my pajamas.

Last, she loves licking the salty sweat off my forehead. Evidence here.
Now she’s facing a bug that her veterinarian can’t seem to pin down, at a time when my wife and I have no fiscal space to play with in our budget, and my dear, sweet kitty is in pain and I am depressed and sad and confused.

UPDATE: Word from home is, kitty seems to be acting herself again. Perhaps the bug is turning from the antibiotics we’ve administered in the past few days.