Cats know

Last night, I spent the whole night, after about 2 am, expressing my pain and discomfort by moaning, and wandering about the house with a glass of water I couldn't quite down, and crying like a baby. My poor cat was also going out of his mind. He was following me around, looking at me like, dude, what the hell are you doing up?! When I'd settle down for a few minutes, he'd headbutt me in a gesture of pure affection, love and compassion.

I finally passed out after 6 or so, when hubby got up and left for work.

When I woke up at 9, I found a tupperware with a delectable looking (not to me, you understand, not in this state, but I imagine to other people) piece of roast pork tenderloin. The tupperware was placed neatly right where my feet end up when I swing them over the edge of the bed to get up.

I thought, hubby's gone mad. He forgot where the pork goes.

But then, I saw Blueberry peeking at me from around the corner, and it occurred to me that he was contributing to collective efforts to cure me the best way he knew how: by stealing hubby's forgotten lunch off the kitchen counter, and offering it to me.

How sweet! If only pork didn't make me vomit right now...

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