Now that my Tony has turned into a large, loud, smelly tom cat it’s time to visit the vet. In a major way it’s for his own personal safety, as I can’t be responsible for my actions should he decide to “mark” me again, while I’m sleeping. Let me tell you, that’s one heck of a way to wake up!

His appointment is this morning, and he will stay overnight. The Ponder Animal Hospital is tops, and the people are loving, caring, and very good at what they do. So why, after running the cat carrier through the dishwasher in preparation for the trip, did I find myself in tears?

Maybe it’s because that carrier was last used to bring home the body of my best friend for burial, and because that was the last time I visited the animal hospital. Yeah, it’s a lot that, but it’s also that I don’t want Tony to be scared, and I’m not happy at the idea of him being gone for 24 hours.

So here I sit crying over a cat three years gone. Stupid, right? Maybe, but Shiloh was special. People who hated cats liked Shiloh, and for 14 years we were family. There are very few humans I’ve lived with that long. Heck, we got old together, and I miss him.

To make matters worse, I can’t sleep for worrying about Tony, more stupid. You can say he’s just a cat, but he’s my cat, dang it, and he’s more than loud, stubborn, and smelly. He’s also sweet, cuddly, smart, and terribly funny. Anyway, in this house there’s no such thing as just a cat/dog/bird. They’re family members, and we love them.

I’m going to be glad when this is over.