I really have to chill

Kindly ignore my ugly kitchen floor

My darling old Joe was a very big cat, as shown in this photo of him with little Connie. When he was with us, it seemed I was forever scooping and disposing of sodden litter. Since his passing, there's noticeably less waste and smell.

This should be a good thing. So why aren't I happy?

I'm worried that this means there's something wrong with Reynaldo. In the past, he's suffered from a kidney infection. What if it's returned? He's now an old man -- 12 years old this month! -- and may not be as resilient as he once was.

Of course, he displays no symptoms of trouble. He's lively, he eats whatever I put in front of him, and he loves to be cuddled. Still, I'm glad that this weekend we're going to the vet. In addition to Rey's annual check up and shots, the vet's going to do a blood panel. We want to make sure he's free of either of the viruses that plagued Joey and Connie.

Losing Joey in February, and discovering Connie's diagnosis just a few weeks ago, has left me overly cautious and hypersensitive. That serves no purpose. I know that. It's just that I take seriously my responsibility to the little furry souls in my care.