We almost lost the Meeper this weekend. He fell out of the window, and we live on the third story.
He's fine -- he didn't break anything, and there wasn't any internal damage. (I never thought I'd say this, but thank goodness for the rain -- it made the ground soft for him.) But he did spend Saturday night at the pet hospital. The doctor put him in an incubator filled with pure oxygen. When I saw my Meeper all curled up in a plastic box, I started crying.
And I couldn't stop.
How is it that something so small and so silly can mean so much? My life was still my life before the Meeper. But now ...
And he is just a cat. Just a silly little orange cat. But he has this way of getting into everything. And once he's there, you can't stand the thought of him leaving.
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