We lost our 10-year-old cat, Missy, on Tuesday. She had been getting thinner, which we hoped was due to the new feeding regimine, but on xmas day she started breathing heavily. An hour before her appointment at the fill-in vet (ours is closed over the holidays), she had some kind of seizure and died.
The wound is still fresh, and we
all find ourselves on the verge of tears at different times as we go
back over what we could or should have done differently regarding her
care, or we find ourselves looking for her at times when she could be
counted on to turn up.
Hannah called her a furry
puddle, and sometimes I called her an annoying asshole, but she was a
good cat, and we are all already missing her companionship. As I have
pointed out to John, Hannah and I are effectively pet-less since Eliza
won't let us touch her. We are hoping she will come out of her shell a
bit more now that she is an only child, so to speak, but she has spent a
lot of time under the bed since Tuesday whenever we go to check on her,
so it is hard to say.
RIP, Missy. You will be missed.