Louie is home again

Three years ago my neighbor called: my vet has a lovely bluepoint male looking for a home. His human had died; the daughter's cat was spraying the walls in protest. Daughter took the cat to the vet to have him euthanized as she could not keep him. Buster arrived with a white crocheted blankie and a hairbrush. After some consideration (Buster is a dog's name) and with no disrespect to his late human, we christened the cat Louis XIV in light of the fact he was much luckier than his namesake.

Louie was punky over the weekend, but perked up some on Sunday. By Monday morning he was one sick kitty and seriously dehydrated, so I checked him into the vet's and started calling every 4 hours for updates. He's home again, I hear (I am not). No clue what was wrong, but he is doing much better. It's only money, after all, and I will feel much better when I can get him to purr for me again.