Mama Spudd is gone...

We had a hard weekend; my oldest furbaby, Mama Spudd, had to be put to sleep.

We have no idea how old she was, but I guess at least 19 years old. We took her in in 1991, when she had a litter of kittens in our garage. (The jerk who had her before us had her declawed, and then abandoned her when we bought the house in 1988. I knew it was the same cat I saw when we looked at the house because of her unusual mannerisms...instead of just rubbing up against your leg, she would rear up, and rub against your knee, instead. I don't know how she survived the three years before we took her in...)

When she got sick, I took her to the vet knowing what would probably be the outcome. My vet confirmed there was no hope or help for her, so I decided to let her go. It took less than a minute; she just closed her eyes, and she was gone. Thank God my brother went with me, because I don't think I could've driven home...too many tears. I also thank God for a very caring, compassionate vet.

The herd is down to three now. I knew this was coming, but you're just never prepared when it actually happens. My consolation is that she had a good life with us, and now she's waiting for me at the Rainbow Bridge with Cassidy, who I lost in 1998.

You know, as much as it hurts, I'd still never trade the good times we had together to avoid the pain right now.

Marsha. :(