Sad Egyptian Mau Without a Soulmate

I don't want to liiiiive

I don't want to liiiiive

I keep fake feathers in my art room closet, and any one of these feathers is the Romeo to my cat’s Juliet. She hasn’t seen them for over a year, but every time she is in this room, she goes to the closet and tries to stick her paw under the door for them.

Today, I had to open that closet door.

I had shut her out of the art room entirely, so I’m not sure what happened next. I assume a feather fell onto the closet floor, and, when I let her back into the art room, her thievin’ kitty paws did the rest. Regardless, a minute later, I went back into the dining room, and she had a feather somehow. And she was dancing with it. Back legs on the ground, front paws wrapped around the feather, in some sort of joyful two-step. I had to trick it away from her, and when she finally realized her soulmate had been locked away again, she ran to the closet door with a confused and wild mew.

I shooed her out of the art room, and she sat at that door and cried like all four of her legs had been broken.

A world without my feather is no world at all

A world without my feather is no world at all

(She can’t have the feathers because they have a pen-thick shaft that she chews on. I don’t want her to cut her mouth or swallow pieces of it.)

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