To tell the tooth
One of the cats lost a tooth. We found it in the hallway near the bathroom.

This is the problem with having two cats. Someone loses a tooth, you don't know which one. Someone yaks up a hairball, you don't know which one.

I have to guess that it was Dom. Molly doesn't have many teeth left to lose. Plus Dom was acting a little strange last night; he just wasn't himself. He kept to himself, didn't want to play, and didn't eat. Also, with all the things he's been bringing up from the basement, I have to imagine that his teeth have been under a little duress.

It was a long, fangy tooth, but none of his "front four" are missing. I did the "bite test," sticking my finger near his face until he bit me. Then I felt around at his teeth. He did, however, favor one side of his mouth when he bit me and didn't bite me with his usual fervor.

He seemed to be fine this morning, as he wrestled Molly to the ground and had her pinned for a few seconds before I broke it up.

I guess I won't worry about it.