All Activity
- Past hour
- Today
- Yesterday
- Last week
-
This year has just started, and it can already can go straight to hell and stay there. We’ve lost our little guy. Woozle. My sweet orange mama’s boy. He’s gone. Fuck cancer, fuck losing cats, fuck death, and fuck this year. Woozle didn’t deserve this.
- Show previous comments 5 more
-
After I had to put my second one down (kidney disease), the thing that hurt was the third one doing the meow for his missing brother.
-
When I had my half Maine Coon boys, one of them had a little stuffed lamb toy that he always brought into bed with me. His brother couldn’t be arsed to sleep with us, and refused to even look at Lambie, but Toivo, Lambie and I were cuddle buddies.
Toivo, unbeknownst to me, had fluid around his heart, and when he was just a bit over 2, I lost him. That night, Aino came into bed with me, put Lambie on the other pillow, and meowed so piteously. He let me cuddle him, and we cried ourselves to sleep together for the next few weeks.
Our furbabies are family.
-
First one of mine… that was a surprise to me (though, in hindsight, there were some clues I should’ve picked up on, that’s a hard thing to live with). By the time of that last/third one, managed to do the right thing and held him in my arms through the whole process. (I had gotten three of a six kitten litter)
