August 2nd 2006 4:09 am
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It's my job to wake Mama up every morning so she can feed us. Sometimes it takes extreme measures, like attacking her feeties under the covers.

Yesterday morning, she didn't sound mad when I did that. She rolled over, turned her back on me, and was crying.

I suddenly wasn't hungry anymore. I was scared. Mama never acted like that before.

What do I do? My tail twitched in confusion.

"Go to her," a voice purred in my head. A scratched my ear to see what it was, but the voice continued. "To the right shoulder. It's torn beneath the skin. There's always a cold ache there."

I walked carefully up the bed, then brushed my whiskers against her cheek as I laid against her shoulder.

"Tell her we love her," came the purr again. I looked at the big window at the foot of the bed. In the sunbeams sat an inky black cat, a striped tabby, and a pair of Meezers that looked a lot like me.

I blinked--realized Mama had raised her head and was looking in the same direction. Her face all wet with tears. She looked surprised, then laid her hand on my shoulders and pressed her cheek against mine.

"I think she knows," I whispered back to them.