Anxious

I've heard my Great-Grandmother Marilla described as a worrier. She passed away a long time before I came around, but I've been told that not only do I have her name hidden in mine, I also carry the "worry" gene.

I do realize that I'm very fourtunate that my main worry at this very moment is that my cat might be sick, but even in that realization, I worry.

Hank is a needy cat, he always was. When I first met him and picked him up off the floor and put him in a box, he cried for his mother. He cried and tried to climb out, but in a moment of intestinal fortitude, I threw one of his sisters in with him and put the cover on the box. I named him Hank because one of his eyes is a little juicy and he look like he needs a hanky. Creative, I know.

He has this habit of sucking on his belly fur when he's going to sleep on my lap. The vet says it's OCD, I just think it's his way of self-soothing. He's very attached to me, and though he does snuggle with my mother a little more, he insists on cuddling with me. If he wants a hug when I'm ignoring him, he'll jump on me and start purring (this is rather painful, believe me).

He doesn't like other people, at least not at first. I've never had a cat who needed so much attention, like I said, he's needy.

He also pees on whatever clothes are on the floor in the bathroom when his litter box isn't clean enough. This I could do without...

Anyway, tonight mom messaged me and said that Hank had projectile vomiting and threw up all over the place. He threw up three times, the last time all over my bedroom floor (in other words, all over my clothes). This didn't really concern me too much at the time because he tends to throw up on a fairly regular basis. But I became increasingly worried when I came home after my shift at 11, and mom said that she hadn't seen him since. He hides from time to time but only when strangers are over, but he came out when he heard me and I picked him up. He seemed a little weak and definitely wasn't "himself". I took him to the kitchen and gave him a little treat, just to make sure he was still eating. He did eat it, which made me feel better, but he immediately went back to hiding under my dresser, where he has remained since. He's also not purring when I scratch his head which is really unusual.

So basically, I'm worried. I keep thinking of my grandmother's cat, Mittens, who one day just threw up, went to the barn and died. Mind you they weren't the best caretakers and it had gotten into rat poison, but still, that image stays with you.

He hasn't thrown up since, so hopefully he just ate something he shouldn't have and he got rid of everything. I put a bowl of water near him, so here's hoping...

Maybe I'm projecting? I don't think I take my work home with me, but when I hear things like the kid who almost came to us because he had been abandoned by his parents today... I can't help but think that rests somewhere in my head for longer than it should... who knows. I just hope he's better tomorrow (the kid too).