I ached so much, I had to crouch on my knees on the floor and lean on a chair. I didn't know if I could get back up, but it felt better to let my tummy hang like a sheep or a deer when on all fours. Or a cat. Moses didn't leave me alone. He jumped up on the chair and head butted me, rubbed on my head back and forth (giving me, I must say, an acute case of cat head hair!), and kneading his large paws on my ear. He also drooled on me. I was not amused at all. He jumped down and rubbed his nose on my bulging belly and then went back to my own head. Eventually, I had had enough. But, oddly, I could stand and I did feel better. I went back to my bed to crawl under the covers and I tossed Moses on first. He wanted back up by my head, but I wasn't going for it. He used to sleep on our heads when he was a kitten and it was awful. I am now a silver stranded brunette and when Moses was a kitten, orange highlights were not my style at all!
He eventually moved to position himself fully on my tummy. It didn't hurt. It felt better to have him there. This was odd, before I had gotten out of bed I had been cradling my aching stomach like a pregnant woman of six months.
I realised Moses knew I wasn't well (he had been soundly sleeping before I started hobbling around the living room). He was taking care of me. I felt humbled, in spite of the drool, and comforted.
There are some who don't believe animals can sense pain in humans or can take care of them (other than being trained to do so). I'm thankful Moses, who irritates me to death sometimes, is one who appears to be able to do this.
Thank you, Moses, for your cat scanning. What type of canned food do you desire?