The cat had lost her appetite, yet she did not have a physical ailment.
Her heart was broken.
Her owner, my husband had not been cuddling with her as much. She used to sleep on his side of the bed, acting like his little spoon. But due to his recent shoulder injury, he had not been sleeping on that shoulder. He had been sleeping facing away from her.
I know that the cat’s heart is broken. Not only did she stop waiting for him in the foyer to come home from work. She also just came to my side of the bed… to me, her less preferred person, at this odd hour to cuddle with me and ask for petting. She was so lonely, she gave her paw to me twice, and I stroked it, hoping that for now, I am enough.
Incandescent Life 