In Mourning
Tuesday, June 16, 2009. I just got back from putting one of my cats to sleep. He was 15 years old, had lost a lot of weight, was peeing and pooping all over the house and I didn't want to torture him by giving him a shot or shoving a pill down his throat every day. It was his time, but I'm still tearing up. I had him since he was 6 weeks old. My children have had him around for their entire lives so he is going to be missed a lot. He was very loving to them and put up with a lot from them, but also told them when it was enough. (The other two cats just leave when the boys come near.) He is buried in the back yard with some kittens I (unsuccessfully) tried to raise when their mama abandoned them. I have to keep my mind occupied with other things or I start crying. Nights are obviously difficult.