This article is just an essay I wrote for my kitten to record the time she spends with me.
A glove-colored ragdoll cat that looks very good.
On the first night when I got home, he snored on my neck, then went to the toilet on the quilt early the next morning, and went to the toilet twice on the sofa on the same day.
In the next few days, although I ate and drank well, I still had loose stools. I even started sneezing and had red eyes. I was flying around my house like a cannonball with a big belly - I was in good spirits but weak in body.
I nervously administered the medicine, and at the same time, I took photos of the kitten sleeping and asked my cat-raising friends: Is it sleeping or about to go?
My cat friend asked me to go to bed.
Now that I think about it, the correctness of not daring to go to the hospital immediately because I am worried about the kitten's stress is open to question.
I took the medicine intermittently for about a week and got better.
For bed reasons, I let the kitten sleep in the living room. She obediently quieted down after I closed the door. Although she was usually silent, there was only the sound of cannonballs hitting the fabric on the kitten's tunnel.
Waiting for me to get up, waiting for me to get off work, waiting for me to wash up, no matter which door at home, as long as I open it, she will be waiting for me at the door.
I named my cat "Youyou" many years ago, hoping that she could have all the happiness.
Now my kitten is meowing.
Purpose: Record life