Godspeed, kitty.
I don't know why I'm even writing about this, but one of my grandma's cats had to be put down yesterday. It was my favorite of her cats, though I don't normally like cats at all. She was a sweet cat. Always asked to be petted and never shrieked across the room to bite you like the other cat. She was also a fat cat; her stomach grazed the floor when she stood up. The boisterous family gatherings we held at my grandma's house never fazed her. Anyway, her name was Patches (since she had patches of different colored fur) and I remember going with my grandma to the animal shelter to get her when I was a kid, so she must have been fairly old when she died. I'm rambling, I know, but I feel bad for my grandma and that was a pretty cool cat.
Onward to Valhalla, Patches. You were a great cat and even though I've probably ingested/inhaled several pounds of your fur (Oh, grandma, can't we keep the food covered until 2 seconds before we eat it?), I still liked you a lot. I'm glad I took the time to scratch your head last time I saw you since that was your favorite thing (apart from sleeping).
Also, Grandma, I would like to point out that even when I knew your cat was sick, I never once said, "You're going to be really sad when your cat dies." Even though you say that about my dog every chance you get, I knew it wouldn't be nice to say that and only expressed my condolences and hoped your cat got better. Because I love you, Grandma. Even though you're racist, hate fat people, and think that I use humor to cover up a low self-esteem and crippling depression (I don't), I still love you.
PS: No, Grandma, I'm not a lesbian.
Onward to Valhalla, Patches. You were a great cat and even though I've probably ingested/inhaled several pounds of your fur (Oh, grandma, can't we keep the food covered until 2 seconds before we eat it?), I still liked you a lot. I'm glad I took the time to scratch your head last time I saw you since that was your favorite thing (apart from sleeping).
Also, Grandma, I would like to point out that even when I knew your cat was sick, I never once said, "You're going to be really sad when your cat dies." Even though you say that about my dog every chance you get, I knew it wouldn't be nice to say that and only expressed my condolences and hoped your cat got better. Because I love you, Grandma. Even though you're racist, hate fat people, and think that I use humor to cover up a low self-esteem and crippling depression (I don't), I still love you.
PS: No, Grandma, I'm not a lesbian.