Ever since bringing Binx home from the vet, he's been clingier than ever. He greets me at the door when I get home from work, he follows me everywhere, he's either in my lap, on the bed, or in my room whenever I'm in here... I'm not sure what's up, honestly. I was convinced he'd hate me for a while for 1.) dropping him off with strangers who shoved needles and IVs in his veins, odd liquids down his throat, and water up his butt, and 2.) continuing to shove said foul-tasting liquids down his throat twice a day in the week following his glorious return.
But he hasn't. When I gave him his meds, he'd run and hide and gag for a few minutes, then he'd come seek me out, meow at me, and make himself comfortable. And that's something that's continued to this very moment.
Part of me wants to think he knows I did what I did to save his life, and this is his way of thanking me. Though he IS a cat, so I can't rule out the possibility that he's lulling me into a false sense of security so he can murder me in my sleep and then use my corpse as a litter box in retaliation for what he went through.
