I wasn’t feeling well this morning — my pain medication was  meant to last only six hours.

My pink towel was stained red with blood and you could smell my wound. Still, I purred whenever someone scratched my head, and I whined until I was lifted from my box and placed in a warm lap.

I was in bad shape, but I couldn’t help but enjoy Fancy Feast tuna and calming ear scratches. My purrs filled the room… until someone left me alone, that is.

When that happened, I’d push myself up with my two good front feet, stick my head over the edge of the Crate & Barrel box and scream. OK, I really just emitted a pitiful little mew. My purrs were louder by far.

But it worked. Before long, Laura or Cody would be at my side, stroking my back and continuing their calls to vets and animals shelters.

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