Afternoon, we're home, have had a lovely weekend. It's pissing it down here.
Yay for mini meet-ups, rewatch and no arguments.
Well, DD didn't bring the cat because she cries all the way and isn't really happy so they left her at home with plenty of food and water. She's always fine for two nights. However, when they got back she didn't greet them as usual and they found her on the bed and were horrified to find she'd scratched all the fur out of the one side of her face and was practically lifeless. 
So, straight to the emergency vet and it turns out she's got an infected tooth. They think it probably only got bad overnight as she'd eaten most of her food. She's had IV antibiotics and painkillers and has to go back in a couple of days for a GA to remove the tooth. She's brightened up now and is eating again, but why do these things happen at the wrong time? Poor Buffy. 
Right, off to sort out a meal and then catch up on the TV we've missed.