Wednesday, March 12, 2008
the saddest tale
We had to put our Puddy down today. He couldn't keep his food or pills down, and what came out the back of him reminded me a lot of Celine Dion's music. Feeling sick is one thing, but if you can't enjoy your food, what's the point in living? We thought we'd have at least a couple weeks with him, but it was clear that he was suffering and going downhill fast, so we wanted to give him a peaceful ending while he could still see how much we adored him.
It's ironic and cruel how it cost 10 times as much to end his suffering as it did to adopt him 7 years ago. I held him and loved him until he was gone, and we buried him in the backyard, our whole family together and covered in Georgia red clay on a beautiful spring day.
Puddy was a good cat. He came when we called him, he always purred when we touched him, he loved Cleo, he loved to snuggle, he never had hairballs or hurt anyone. He was funny and fat and had a soft pink belly. He liked to lay in the sun in my studio while I painted, and he liked to nap with Cleo and Craig. He loved to gnaw on my glasses and drink water from the sink.
Goodbye, Puddin'. You were the best and weirdest cat i've ever known and the best $15 i've ever spent.