I just took Curious George back to the shelter.
I felt like it was the only thing to do; if he had passed his illnesses on to Little Girl, I never would have forgiven myself.
To their credit, the shelter was completely understanding about the return. They said they thought he had escaped the respiratory crud that the rest of the cats had. I find that hard to believe, seeing as how he was WHEEZING by the time I got him home last night, but whatever. They were surprised at how bad his ears were, which - does anybody ever LOOK at these cats? They said that they would have him checked by the vet in the morning, and they offered to hold him there at the shelter and treat him until he was better, so that I could try again, and
I said no.
I cannot do this anymore. I cannot stand in shelters and sob as I return a cat who I thought was going to be a life-long friend.
I hope nobody thinks that I'm doing this cavalierly, like returning a t-shirt that doesn't fit. I will certainly take the responsibility for New Kitty, as I should have realized that a kitten, even a mostly-grown kitten, would be too aggressive for Little Girl. But Curious George scared me. I cannot go through that again.
I wish I could say I feel relieved, but I don't. I just feel awful.
It looks like it's gonna be just Little Girl and me.