The RPfic

Today, December 22, 2007, my cat Tweety had to be put down.

She had a tumor in her chest cavity that was pressing against her lungs. She was having terrible trouble breathing and was only getting worse. She showed these symptoms for only two days.
The procedures to remove this tumor had less then a fifty-percent chance of survival, so it was decided that she would be spared all the trauma and stress of those procedures.

Dad took her to the vet to see what the problem was while I was at a Winter Solstice/Yule party at a friend's house all night and most of today, so I wasn't there when it happened. It's better that way. I couldn't have done it had I been there.

She was a stray that we found as a kitten, several generations of wild city-cat in her. She lived much longer with us then she ever would have without. Happier, I'm willing to wager, too.

She's also had a semi-recent skin condition which caused her to itch at herself a lot. It started with an allergy to fleas but grew into that cronic itching, and while we could keep it at bay with baths and the occasional pill most of the time, it was taxing on us and her.

We're to bury her tomorrow. I've seen her, she's peaceful-looking despite how badly I broke down when I first saw her. It... was her time, and she's happy now. No more pain. No more itching. She's still around here. Her spirit still lives, in the house and in our hearts.
She's in the box with some of her favorite things; one of mom's socks, the pocket dad used to carry her around in when she was a kitten, and some leaves from our Oak tree. Lastly, her favorite thing to burrow under, a bit of newspaper. She can rest now.



((I'm sorry if I'm distant or don't reply to anything for a bit. I'm pretty distraught right now. I've never lost anyone or anything close to me before.))

Ceej out! <3

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