She didn’t start crying until we got a few blocks away from home.

Then by the time we reached the 51/81 highway I almost cried too, but told Tuxedo-my-girl-cat in the calmest Momma voice, “We’re almost there. Everything is going to be OK.”

She must have believed me because she got quiet after we went over the railroad tracks, and I pulled up to the vet clinic.

Once inside, I found out I was really early because there wasn’t a usual chase, and not much of a fight, to get her in the carrier.

When Melissa suggested I leave Tux there, and come back later, my eyes watered, my voice cracked, and I probably didn’t need to say anything. But I managed to tell her I’d just wait there.

During that time I tried to tell myself it was just an ear infection, and she’d be fine. Then before I’d almost convinced myself it was a brain tumor, it was our turn to see the doctor.

Tuxedo, known in the past to bite, was such a good patient.

She let Denis check her out without so much of a whimper, or a taste.

Tux even stayed still, with Melissa’s help, for the shot.

After we got her prescription we were on our way home.

We were both relieved so it was a quiet ride.

Now I’m glad to have my soon-to-be-15-year-old kitty feeling like her old self, and is purring again.

I don’t know what I’d do without that little girl.

She is my confidant. I tell her everything, and she almost always listens.

She rarely walks off while I’m talking to her, and comes to me when I yell, “Treat!”

When I get home from shopping she always comes out of the office, and watches me unload the groceries.

If it’s nighttime when I get home from a meeting, or playing cards at Lacey, she meets me at the front door. Then I think I can almost hear her say, “It’s about time you got home!”

Tux also seems to know when I need to snuggle and hear her purring so I can go to sleep. After I’m asleep she’ll move around, and make herself comfy next to my feet. Or, sometimes she sleeps in a nearby chair so she can see if I move, and as soon as my feet hit the floor, Tuxedo is there to watch me.

She also waits for me outside the bathroom door. If I’m in there too long she’ll move her paw under the door so I know she’s still there.

Right now Tux is sleeping in my office chair, and my back hurts from sitting at an old kitchen chair, while writing for today’s paper.

Ah-h-h she just woke up, and gave me one of those why-aren’t-you-asleep looks. Then she turned over, and I heard her hum herself back to sleep. Or it sounded like a hum, but maybe she purred herself to sleep.

Hm-m-m. Maybe I’ll try that if she doesn’t wake up in time to put me to sleep tonight.