Camille is not doing well. She is my second cat. I have had her and loved her since the day her semi feral mother had her on our porch. She is 15.
She is losing weight, becoming tottery and cries alot. She needs to go to the vet and I am so scared that she may be worse than I think, which is already pretty bad. It hasn't even been a year since I lost my first cat and rhis may be more than I can handle without going pretty far into depression.
Camille has always been MY cat. She would follow me around and hop on my lap at any chance, even if I was in the bathroom. When I lived in a dorm for three months, she was miserable and wouldn't even let my father pay attention to her - she ended up with all sorts of infections caused by stress. She loves me.
And I always feel like I neglect her. Iggie was my first baby, and he was such a rotten little punk that he captured my attention with his naughty behaviors - I had to work to gain his affection. Since Camille has always been so easy, I fell horrible that she does not have the same amount of attention as Iggie did. And then I got The Woo, who cries if I am not in his sight, and again Camille got pushed to the side.
Maybe people who don't have pets won't understand all of this. But these cats have been my family for so long. During the really bad depression years, they were my only source of comfort and compantionship. They have lived with me thorugh 3 states, 11 residences, and 6 jobs. Iggie and Camille were always around for me when I just needed to have another living creature next to me to not feel so alone. And I just hope Camille knows that she is as loved as she is.