The day I discovered I'm too heavy to hold (and made everyone sad)

Mom tried to pick me up at the vet and her face went weird.

We were at the animal hospital on 42nd Street. The one that smells like that cleaning stuff and scared cats. I was sitting on the metal table being good and Mom reached under my front legs like always. She pulled up and I went nowhere. Just stayed sitting there like a statue.

She tried again. Made a little grunt sound. I stayed on the table. The vet tech looked over and said something about seventy-eight pounds and Mom's face got all scrunched up. Not mad scrunched. Sad scrunched.

"When did you get so big?" she said to me. I don't know when. It happened while I was sleeping I think. Yesterday I was small enough to sit on her lap during movies. Today I'm too heavy to lift and my paws hang off the couch cushions.

The ride home was quiet. I kept looking at Mom but she was staring out the car window. When we got to our building she opened her arms like she was going to try to carry me upstairs. I sat down fast so she wouldn't hurt her back. I'm not dumb.

Now I'm on the floor in our apartment and Mom is sitting next to me instead of picking me up like she used to. She's got both arms around me which is nice but different. Her chin is on my head and I can feel her breathing slow and deep.

I think I broke something by getting big. Not a thing you can fix. Just the way things were before.

Tomorrow Mom's sister is visiting with Alfie and Annie Girl. I wonder if they'll notice I'm different now.