But I am living in fear of one thing, and terrified of it. I'm scared of my cat.
Specifically, I live in fear of coming home or waking up, and Willy is just dead with no warning(well, other than his existing health problem). When I came home from work this morning I fed the animals, did my timesheet, and went to bed. The cats tend to sleep on the bed when I am, so they both followed me in. When I woke up in the afternoon(a family moved into the second floor and they tend to have visitors that just honk the car horns outside the building. I'll let you guess the ethnicity) Willy was completely still. Wasn't reacting to me getting up and moving, and as far as I could tell, wasn't breathing. I started to shake him going "Willy! Willy!" and, thank goodness, he jerked awake. He rarely goes into a deep sleep, so it scared the hell out of me. My heart was racing.
(Mary, by contrast, could sleep through a nuclear attack)
I worry that this makes me sound like an asshole, but I hope that when it is Willys time there'll be some kind of warning so I can take him to the vet. I honestly don't know what I would do otherwise.