Giving, Taking, Taking Away

Larry, the little black cat bent on stealing your soul, cries when shoved into the cat carrier. It's not that he mews or meows like other cats, no. He says, "Mink! Mink!" all the way to the vet's office, where he is pronounced larger than last visit, and possessed of an absessed tooth. Medicine is prescribed. Larry shoves himself back into the cat carrier and promptly complains. "Mink," he says. "Mink!" The ride home is brief, but not brief enough for the cat. He gets to go home. I go back to work, where everyone wants to know, "Though I fear for my soul, I wonder: how is Larry?"