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Last week I made an appointment for our kitten to be spayed. This thursday, at half past eight I've got to take her in and I feel like a traitor.I know it has to be done but this one is such a little sweetie - she came in the summer holidays so I suppose I really spoiled her and loved her too much. Now I am thinking about her wobbling out of her basket when I bring her home, with her stitches and her bald patch and her elizabethan collar, which she'll get off in minutes if she's anything like Mog! and now I'm thinking that she is actually the victim/recipient of my unacknowledged empty nest syndrome and this is the first time I have ever even considered it - OH DEAR