For Want of a Rubber Band. . .

Just so you don't think I've become anything less of a worrier about my cats, submitted for your approval:

Ninja Kitteh, pictured above, was frisking about on my desk while I was working on a piece of writing the other day (yes, it was the Fish fisking). On the desk was a thick rubber band that I'd used to hold together a book the chipped spine of which I had repaired while the glue dried. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw her knock the rubber band off the desk, and pursue.

Then the penny dropped; she might eat the bloody thing, which can be very bad for cats--possibly even fatal. I started up, just in time to see Ninja on her hind legs, flicking her head, and the rubber band?

Nowhere.

I didn't see her eat it, I comforted myself, as I searched fruitlessly for the missing rubber band.

So, the big question--was Ninja perfectly fine, or had she gulped the thing down, and even now it was getting ready to block her digestive tract?

48 hours later, I had my answer. First time I ever smiled while scooping out a litter box.