I'm not sure how to write about this feeling, but I've been feeling the press of mortality and time on me lately. My beautiful New Orleans street trash cat, Jackass, has been getting skinnier each day. Now he seems like a bag of bones with very little muscle mass. But his bloodwork shows that his medications are working and that his thyroid and kidney problems are being managed. And his appetite is strong and he is sassy and well and active. But he's just so slight. I'm worried that my time with him will be short now. I of course pray for more time with my mean rotten little wonderful cat who is getting sweeter by the minute. He practically purrs all the time now, even if you just look at him. But I want to value every moment with him now and give more treats and love liberally. I love you, Jacques Mamou Lagniappe.