For want of her form curled on the floor

My cat is in the animal hospital tonight. There was just a noise in the stairwell. For a moment I forgot and I turned my head, thought it was her. My apartment is so quiet without her. I can't sleep. I'm watching the clock as hours slip by. My body aches. Sadness. Touch. Emptiness. Skin so forgotten, but my hands remember silken fur. She's my hug, my cuddle, my shadow. She's a persistent muse. A demanding diva. A finicky fickle princess in want of favorite foods. I'm just her chef, waiter, butler. I do the chores. She runs the house. Sits where she wants. Goes where she's not supposed to. Drives me nuts. Exasperates me with her willfulness. Is immune to training, discipline, or any sort of behavioral deterrents or reinforcements. I throw up my hands, ah well, she's just like me, what else can I expect?