Back in early December, I birthed a kitten. And by "birthed," I mean adopted from Town Lake Animal Shelter. Ever since then I've lost my mind. I made Lora come by my apartment the first day I had to leave her at home for work to make sure she was alive. I almost cried the night one of my patients (expectedly) died at 7:05pm because the extra paperwork meant I would be an hour late getting home. I almost cried when I dropped her off to board at the vet's office while I was in Tahoe. I called the vet while I was in Tahoe. I did cry when I came home from work the other week to discover she was stuck under my dresser, and, according to her full dish of food, she had been there all day. I lovingly towel her little kitty feet after I lovingly yank her from out of my just-used shower, and I lovingly ask her why she isn't one of those cats that hates water.

Juno thinks she's people, and clearly so do I.

Hi there darling. I like your face. Even when it is relentlessly smushed against my own face at 4 in the morning.

Ever slept with a kitten scarf? It's toasty.

I'm okay with being the cat lady.