One of my cats, Simba (don’t blame me, the girls named him), has had an abscess on the side of his face for the last couple of days. Which probably means he’s been in a fight and nothing to worry about at first. (If they don’t drain after a day or two we go to the vet.) This one opened up and looked to be okay so I didn’t worry about it other than keeping Simba in for a day or two.
Last night he came back in from his first jaunt out and started talking at me. I thought he wanted attention so I picked him up and let him get on my shoulder where he likes to be. But he got down again after just a couple of minutes and started talking again. So I went and checked their food and water… plenty of both and fresh… and when I walked away he followed me so it wasn’t that.
I went in to help Emily out of the tub (order her out before she turned into a raisin… she’d never get out left to her own devices) and paint her skinned knee down with neosporin again. And Simba followed me into the bathroom and became even more plaintive in his speech while I was fixing Em’s knee. So when I sent her to get her nightgown on, I took a warm damp wash cloth and washed the sore side of his face (I was already in nurse mode… why not?) And he started purring so loudly I was sure he could be heard next door. Apparently that was just what he wanted… even the neosporin. A case of “Kiss it and make it better, Momma.”
Now I know my cats think that I’m Momma…