Friday, February 20, 2015

One week 

She's been gone one week and I am still surprised when she is not waiting at the door for me when I get home and racing to the food bowl. I cried at the pet store today when I went to cancel our standing order of her prescription food. Spencer and Juliet both said today that they wanted her back, and then Juliet said if we ever got another kitty she was going to name it Baby Girl. But its less raw then it was. It still hurts of course, and I still find myself close to tears at time when I think about her out there in her box. And my tummy still clenches when I think of her climbing on my lap, and then being gone. Maybe it is still more raw than I thought.

Monday, February 16, 2015


Spencer, running into the room at full speed "Need Drink Water!" I pour a glass, and then have to stand there like a demented status because he's too busy with the broom stick extender he found... and now he's found a ball and run off - while I stand here with a full glass of water. Two is NOT my favorite age...

Sunday, February 15, 2015

A few days on... 

It's been a few days. There are moments when the pain is less raw and doesn't consume me. But it is the small moments. Folding a towel I used last week to dry her after her bath. The fact there was no poo on the floor when I cleaned the boxes. A thunderstorm and all I could think is of how she hated thunder.... the fact that I wrote hates instead of hated just then. Juliet is still sobbing herself to sleep at night, and Spencer declares that she's dead every morning when he goes to feed her. I bought Juliet some books about grieving. I'm hoping they help her.

Thursday, February 12, 2015

Goodby sweet girl 

No filters warning. Baby Girl is gone. And to be honest, I have cried over this more than I cried when my Dad died. Its not to say I loved my dad less than I love a cat. But I had to make this choice. I had to choose the day she was to die. I chose to take a health, if old and crazy cat, to the vet and die. I did that to her. This morning she was breathing and tonight she is in the dirt. My daughter begged me not to, and sobbed herself to sleep tonight. I did that. I chose that.Maybe this IS me grieving my dad. Juliet was a newborn and we all know newborns don't let you grieve. Who knows. All I know is everyone processes grief differently. And I think I was wrong. I should have found the money for a run for her litter boxes. I should have been more patient and less selfish. She was an amazing kitty, who slept with my children and let them snuggle her when they were awake. Juliet is already asking for her next kitty, while still sobbing over the one in the ground and asking why we couldn't wait until she died on her own. Spencer has gone looking for his bed buddy - she laid with him every night since he was born. Ninja (the other cat) is laying in front of the empty cat carrier. I will never ever forget her limpness as she was put in the box Juliet made her. Or how wrong she looked in it.


Pages of Note:
The Words of my bestest bud.
My Aunt's Blog

EDJ's Blog
The rabble of film reviews- cinemablend


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