. . . she's gone.
I'm $167 lighter, and no longer a cat owner. And oddly, I'm kind of fine with that. I think that for the past 9 days I've been slowly saying good-bye, and letting go.
There were tears shed, it's true. But not as many tears as I had expected. I'm willing to bet there will be more tears shed as reality sinks in. Truly, I thought I would be a snotty mess tonight. I'm definitely not.
When I picked her up to put her in her carrier I couldn't help but notice the massive lump where her tummy used to go. Poor kitty! It was bulging. I can't imagine it was very comfortable for her. I bet that's why she was peeing outside her box. I don't even know if she would have made it to Monday and her original appointment, or if we would have been calling an emergency vet on the weekend.
Anyway, it's done now.
Kitten, AKA Bertram B. Cat
March 1, 1992 - May 8, 2009
Vicious, obnoxious, soft and furry.
Cuddled only when she wanted to. As likely to bite as to purr.
Wrecker of shoes, carpet, and various and sundry other things.
Operator of the famed 'cat alarm' (M'owm'owm'owm'ow . . and so on)
Never did catch the laser pointer's light.
Terrorist of the basement - 'no really stranger, I'm very cute and sweet . . . pat me?? BITE!!'
RIP you wretched bitch. I'll miss you. And I'll always love you. And I still don't know why.