She's a little tiny cat. She's only 1.5 lbs and she's 17 years old. She's mostly deaf. Her diet requirements have changed and she seems to be starving to death. I'm working with the vet and within a budget to discover what's happening with her but in the meantime she cries and the only way to satiate her is to feed her some pretty expensive prescription, canned food... about 6 times a day. This won't go on forever. She'll either succumb to whatever is wrong or she'll recover. It's going to take some time.
After 17 years of solid friendship with my lovely little cat I'm unwilling to hurt her even though that meow has got me on the ceiling too. Controlling myself even though I'm supremely agitated is called "maturity". Get some.
You've been in my life 9 years. You never wanted pets but that didn't stop you from moving in. This problem has gone on for a while now and I know you're irritated but unless you're going to man up, get a job and help to pay for the testing she requires STFU.
It's going to take a while for me to save enough to leave you but the saving started when you took your hard-soled slipper and whipped it at my 1.5 pound cat. You see, I don't want to be around when karma whips a 5 foot shoe at 100 miles an hour at your unsuspecting head, you fucking retard! When you're done here on this earth may you go to kitty heaven where they feed on you... for eternity. —LoveMyCat