My dad just sent me a message saying our family's cat had to be put down today. Poor little guy. He'd been our cat for 16 years, ever since we found him up in a tree one day after coming home from elementary school. He lived on our screened in porch and had his very own kitty door so he could come and go as he pleased. He couldn't meow properly - he made this raspy, airy noise when he wanted your attention. He ruled the neighborhood cats.
My parents live on a little lake, and each summer Tiger would get sand burrs caught in his long gray hair. So we started getting him sheared each summer. He would be free of the matted sand burrs and his coat would grow back, long and fluffy, by the time winter rolled around. We called it our "Yearly Cat-Shearing," only half-joking that it made us sound preeeetty redneck. "You might be a redneck if you shave your cat every 4th of July." We did.
Whenever I visit home, I always go sit on the end of the dock and just look at the lake for awhile. Tiger would always saunter down from the porch and sit by me for a bit. I'm going to miss that.
3 comments:
I'm so sorry. The only downside to loving our animals is knowing that they will leave before we do. He sure had a handsome face.
*disclaimer* I don't have siblings, so I'm much more sentimental about pets than most people.
I'm sorry about your kitty. They're the best. Anyone who disagrees has never had a cat before.
Only you, however, could manage to make me crack up while reading a post about losing a pet. Seriously... the red-neck cat shearing... awesome. Why don't you write for a living? You could write a sitcom for Pat or something. Now THAT would rock.
you suck, death. we all hate you.
sorry, kflix.
also, jo, i commented on the 'medallion' post before i read this, so it's pretty funny that we both said something like that.
but seriously, sorry, yo.
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