Lonely Needles

Today my needles are sad and lonely, missing their frequent companion, Slinky. And the people in our house are sad and missing her too. I took our kitty to the veterinary emergency clinic late Saturday night. It became apparent she was increasingly uncomfortable and finding it difficult to move. The problem we thought she was having with a hairball must be something else, something more critical. An exam revealed an enlarged bladder. Next, X-rays showed a bladder stone blockage. Then we had to make the sad decision to have her put to sleep. The doctor at the emergency clinic was quite surprised that this problem more typical of older male cats was so threatening to our female six-year-old.

We'll miss her purr and her play
the little bell on her collar and the begging for treats
the berating we would receive coming in the door after leaving her alone
almost tripping over her on the stairs and making sure she doesn't get outside
her peaceful snoozing in sunny windows or warm lamplight
the way she would tell us it was time for breakfast
and the affection she showed mostly to me.