Do you see? Do you see, Kitties?
I am . . . am . . . unbalanced!
My glorious left whisker is gone, gone forever, gone like the fog that swept through the hills of San Francisco, gone like the morning dew on the grass, gone like all things upon which a kitty sets such store.
Should I ask the Human to remove the remaining one so that I am not quite so hee-dee-ous?
She says I am being a drama queen, and that it will grow back as it did before. I don't think she is offering the proper amount of sympathy, do you?