Katrina Sue

My cool cat perished on DEC22 2005 by my own hand. Sounds kind of cruel. But the circumstances are this. . . the poor cat was 16 years old, and had skin cancer of the nose. Thus, the poor thing was constantly breathing this fluid and sneezing it back out as the growth replaced the nose. What a way to go.

The vet said he'd put her down if I liked, and I was indecisive. But on DEC22 both my cats came to meet me as I left my house hurriedly. Precedent states the cats are waiting for dinner, and never have they followed me to the truck. Generally they run from it when it starts and they find they are sleeping on it. When pulling into the yard, you generally know that though you can't see them they see you and they are on the move.

Started the truck, the radio blasting and backed up . . . into the curb. Got out to the street and realized it may have not been the curb.

I rushed her to the vet to confirm death and no more suffering.

I kept wondering how it would end, and in the end it was resolved without a concious effort on my part. I still find the whole affair climatic but abrupt. 15 years and gone in an instant. I think people age because a little bit of them goes with every soul that passes.