After another nerve wracking drive home I opened the front door to find nothing. Walking in I didn't see Callie, or any signs of her. After two, very long minutes I saw her rounding the corner, scratching on her post. She must have been on my pillow and this is why she didn't greet me. Relieved I picked her up but she wasn't having it. We went into the kitchen where I noticed she ate most of her food from the morning. I gave her some more and she heartily ate up. Then she waited around for her baby food, which she ate up as well.

I settled in and soon found a kitty staring at me, meowing a hearty meow. She just ate so I knew she wasn't hungry. I sat down on the floor and noticed my little girl was purring. She was either meowing for attention or meowing out of pain from her purring, I'm not sure which. It did break my heart to feel her purr be a wet, congested purr.

I made myself dinner and sat down on the couch. She curled up on my lap. And stayed. I had to greatly disrupt her in order to put my dish away. When I returned she claimed my lap again and would not let me even lean forward to drink some water! I was left to the mercy of the television for entertainment and it was not fulfilling.

Finally, at 9 pm, she moved. Even though I was in the middle of a show I like I instantly got up and stretched my legs. I am now upstairs, trying to get some stuff done. She's downstairs. I know she's sitting on the rug and waiting. She'll just have to wait until tomorrow when she will have her daddy around all day.

Apparently I was wrong. She is now on the couch, in my spot, waiting very impatiently by the remote. I think her face tells it all: