(no subject)
Long time, no post. Apologies, and my regards, if I've lost touch with you.
Pumpkin died this afternoon. A couple of days ago, she was still climbing onto chairs, so waking up this morning to find her unable to move her back legs was a bit of a sudden degeneration, but of course, it still doesn't count as unexpected at all. I'd always hoped she would go in her sleep, not after a morning of wailing intermittently in a very different way than usual,
and having to have the water bowl lifted up to her face. After all she usually did to get onto laps, she couldn't manage to keep her balance on mine when I put her there. So I put her in one of the cardboard boxes she liked ot lay in.
Dad stopped by, and we were just leaving the house to take her to the vet when he noticed she had stopped breathing. Dear old Dad, trying to help me stop crying, kept mentioning "it just happened. Just now. You know how she was; she really didn't want to go to the vet."
Twenty-one for a cat is an incredibly good run. She was a fourth birthday present.
Dad took the body, box and all. He's going to bury her where we lived when I was a kid, next to the other pets we had there.
I just wanted to say all this. Don't worry about me or anything; I've got a wonderful husband and a sizeable tissue supply.
Pumpkin died this afternoon. A couple of days ago, she was still climbing onto chairs, so waking up this morning to find her unable to move her back legs was a bit of a sudden degeneration, but of course, it still doesn't count as unexpected at all. I'd always hoped she would go in her sleep, not after a morning of wailing intermittently in a very different way than usual,
and having to have the water bowl lifted up to her face. After all she usually did to get onto laps, she couldn't manage to keep her balance on mine when I put her there. So I put her in one of the cardboard boxes she liked ot lay in.
Dad stopped by, and we were just leaving the house to take her to the vet when he noticed she had stopped breathing. Dear old Dad, trying to help me stop crying, kept mentioning "it just happened. Just now. You know how she was; she really didn't want to go to the vet."
Twenty-one for a cat is an incredibly good run. She was a fourth birthday present.
Dad took the body, box and all. He's going to bury her where we lived when I was a kid, next to the other pets we had there.
I just wanted to say all this. Don't worry about me or anything; I've got a wonderful husband and a sizeable tissue supply.