The kitten was gone at the vet's all day, getting spayed. Her absence made itself felt, all day, a quietness and also a lack of suspense. Nobody to pounce on your feet as you step out of the bathroom. Nobody to pull the pom-pom off your hat as you sit reading on the couch. Nobody to race madly and full-speed around and around the living room, and nobody to dive between your legs just as you take a step. Nobody to investigate the faucet while you brush your teeth. Nobody to stalk you in slow-motion all the way across the room. And nobody to hop on your lap when you sit down. Nobody to nuzzle your chin. Nobody to lay on your chest and fill you with purr-reverb.
She's home now, groggy and wobbly but doing fine. The vet said she was "spicy" and "a handful," and looked apologetic when explaining that we're supposed to keep her quiet and inactive for ten whole days. Ten days! Wish us luck.