Our little miss Devi was spayed this week and has now joined her sister in kitty womanhood. The act of having what would be the equivalent of a hysterectomy has made me think of them more as mature women (cats). Like a rite of passage. They came out of the fire stronger, resilient, brave.
I, of course, was a complete mess the entire time the kitties were separated from us. They've become such an important part of our lives, so dear and lovable; I couldn't bear to lose them. Why do we imagine the worst happening, almost prepare ourselves for the event, when it is so unlikely?
I'm just happy to report that Devi bounced back quickly and endured the two days of hissing and pseudo attacks she received from Kali until the vet scent disappeared and Kali recognized her once again. Now, she's back to being herself, a nurturing sister and sweetie pie. :)

(Pre-surgery. A current shot like this might be indelicate.)


