Egg is small, much smaller than before. Boney. She doesn’t fight much when I put her in her travel bag, a worthless black leatherette shoulderstrap doohicky with pink trim, a pink inset paw and the monogrammed letters C, A, T, in case I forget what I’m carrying. She meows, something she doesn’t often do. I would like to have slept longer but I have to get back by noon to start working (overtime). The cab ride is jerky and strange. I’ve never been in a cab with my pet before. Poor Egg, clearly I am overreacting.

At the ASPCA, the elevator opens to a room filled with dogs, cats, almost every seat occupied. Barking, talking: it’s noisy and I can feel Egg squirming beneath my arm. The receptionist takes my information. What’s wrong with your cat? She’s not eating enough, she’s lost weight. Has she been spayed? Yes. How did you hear about us? I’m a member, but not now because I didn’t have money to renew. You’re a member then. But I’m not right now. That’s okay, I’ll just put Member. Is there anyone else who might seek treatment for Egg? Parker. When was she born? December 1, 1993. Did you get her at the ASPCA? Yes, but in Richmond. Breed? Her mom’s Siamese, but she’s black. Black DSH. Okay, here’s your card, sit down.

My card lists Egg’s …

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