TL;DR: Cats are fine; we're losing our marbles. :)

Rough night last night after getting back from urgent care for the nip (for which I have forgiven Sugarfoot, poor thing's been stressed out by Sad Kitten Noises during the rescue and whatnot).

Lots of noise and fussing from the next room while Sugarfoot scratched at the fabric Kitten Barrier under our bedroom door and mewed needily.

We were really afraid that it meant the switch to a new non-clumpy cat litter had confused her and she was looking for help finding a place to poop.

I checked on her and she was just... clingy and needed some love? She sprawled out and quieted down instead of doing the Poopy Dance. I checked again in the morning... and found the litterbox had been used! Yay! I never thought I'd be so happy to see a filthy catbox. :)

Sugarfoot and the Bumblers (the cats, not the blues-rock band) have been nappy and friendly all morning. I am grateful. I still get just a little bit of anxiety just from having them in my possibility space, adorable little balls of potential heartbreaking crisis and ambiguity.