There's always something.

Our itteh bitteh kitteh Lyx had to have 6 teeth taken out on monday. She's only 2 and she may well loose the rest of them at some point. She has terrible gum disease and there's a possibility that the cause of it is much worse even though she seems healthy.

She spent most of monday afternoon in a drugged wobbly haze, snapping out of it briefly to chomp down some soft chicken before returning to the land of the fairies. By the end of the evening she was happily clawing her way along the sofa. She's been eating well since and is now desperate to get out into the garden but we're keeping her in for a few days.

She's getting over it much quicker than I am.

I feel terribly terribly guilty. I should have known it was this bad. I should have noticed. And then the thought pops into my head, well if you can't even keep a kitteh healthy...

I remember my Mum making a comment along the lines that the kitteh's were my babies now and thinking oh no, no, no, no. Our kittehs are not substitute children; they are pets and George and Little Poppet are irreplaceable. But they are part of our little family, have been and continue to be marvellous therapy and it hurts me to the point of tears to see one of them suffering.

I just feel like screaming.

Enough.