Stella is fifteen (which is probably pretty geriatric in cat years). Which makes me feel old, because I’ve had her since she was a kitten, and I wasn’t any spring chicken when I got her.

She lives for three things–lying in my lap, clawing expensive furniture, and food.

Yesterday, she didn’t show up for dinner. In fact, she didn’t show up for lap, either. I didn’t see her at all.

When I got home from work today, she wasn’t upstairs complaining about being fed late. Indeed, she wasn’t upstairs at all. I found her downstairs, lying on the floor in the middle of a bedroom.

I picked her up, and carried her up to the kitchen. Normally, she’d be crying by the cabinet in which the cans of food are kept, but she seemed indifferent. I opened a can and put food into the bowls for her and Jessica (the younger cat). She didn’t eat.

I couldn’t get her to drink, either. She wandered out of the kitchen, and seemed to be walking quite wobbly. She’s spent most of the evening lying on one of the stairs.

I don’t have a good thermometer for taking her temp, but I’m wondering if she’s come down with something. It seems too sudden for her to just be getting old.

Anyone have any ideas?

[Update on Tuesday morning]

Per the advice (and I’m sure I’d have done it anyway) she’s ensconced at the vet. No word yet on what the problem is. Thanks for all the good wishes.