Cat No. 6

Since she arrived home from Connecticut on Sunday, Nora has gone on a consciousness strike to protest her extradition. She's not sick; she just won't get out of bed. (Silver Lining: I don't have to make it.) She won't go outside, she won't play, and she's even started using her box again, which I know she's doing just to spite me because she hates using it even more than I hate cleaning it. (She may be a cold-blooded Virginian, but until the ground freezes, Nora can brave it and bare it like an over-hydrated Bear Grylls in the Arctic Circle. Strangest simile ever? Perhaps.) Ugh. It shall be a test of wills then... Who can be the most stubborn? I may have met my match.