Memories of BooBoo
Back in October, I wrote about my old BooBoo kitty and his deteriorating health. He continued to greet me at the basement door and help me with the laundry and devour his food…until Monday. He suddenly stopped eating and drinking. And he just looked…sad. I’ve been putting off the inevitable because he’s been eating, drinking, and using his litterbox AND because he’s seemed HAPPY. Not so Monday.
He did not improve. He would sit and stare into his water dish, but not drink.
It was time.
So yesterday afternoon, we made that last trip to the vet and I helped set my old boy free. But not before tucking him in my coat and taking him for one last walk to inspect his old haunts and favorite spots. I even picked a tired-looking sprig of catnip and placed it on his bed for him to snuggle with during his last hours.
This morning, I went downstairs to start the laundry and went into complete meltdown. No Boo pestering me to be picked up. No meow. No one checking out the dirty clothes for interesting smells. Memories of him are everywhere. I still have litterboxes to dump and old bedding to toss. But not yet. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Today, I’m trying to trick my brain into thinking he’s just outside hunting for a mouse. And who knows. Maybe he is.
He did not improve. He would sit and stare into his water dish, but not drink.
It was time.
So yesterday afternoon, we made that last trip to the vet and I helped set my old boy free. But not before tucking him in my coat and taking him for one last walk to inspect his old haunts and favorite spots. I even picked a tired-looking sprig of catnip and placed it on his bed for him to snuggle with during his last hours.
This morning, I went downstairs to start the laundry and went into complete meltdown. No Boo pestering me to be picked up. No meow. No one checking out the dirty clothes for interesting smells. Memories of him are everywhere. I still have litterboxes to dump and old bedding to toss. But not yet. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Today, I’m trying to trick my brain into thinking he’s just outside hunting for a mouse. And who knows. Maybe he is.
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