I am petting a cat.

Miss Spider is sitting on my shoulder, her claws digging in ever so slightly in, and she is purring gently.

I am holding my knitting firmly in my left hand. I am racing in the Tour de Sock, and I want to win this round, if I can. It's colorwork and challenging, and I hate this sock already because it isn't finished yet. I've only slept a few hours and will have a nap again later. The sock can wait while I hold her. Some things are more important than winning a sock knitting competition.

Later, Miss Spider goes back to the vet today. They will do blood work to see how she is responding to the thyroid medication, but I'm pretty sure already that she is not responding at all. She is losing her fur and has lost half her body weight. She is at least 19, and my sweetie has had her longer than he has had me. We've decided against surgery because her age and fragile state.

I am composing this blog post in my head for later, when I know I can cry without disturbing her.

I am smiling right now because she is purring and curled up with me.

I am petting a cat.  ¶ 5:19 AM