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Snip is gone. Pancreatic cancer. There was nothing I could have done for it, but I feel so guilty for letting her be sick on Thursday and Friday and then all I could do between Saturday and Tuesday was stick her with needles and watch her try to walk and try to drink and hang on until today. I don't know if it's worse that I understood what was happening to her, or that she didn't.
My bed feels empty, because she used to come to bed with me and lie on top of me until I wanted to roll over, and then she would take up as much space as possible. Lily sleeps in the living room.
I sent Snip's puffball with her, because seeing the puffball in the empty cat bed on Friday, while she was on my bed, broke my heart. And it broke again last night when I realized she would never use the bed in the office again.
Eccentric and opinionated, if it's fish gimme that, I killed my puffball again!, go wash Lily's ears for her, willya, look at the DAGGERS you've got!, SnipFoot.
My bed feels empty, because she used to come to bed with me and lie on top of me until I wanted to roll over, and then she would take up as much space as possible. Lily sleeps in the living room.
I sent Snip's puffball with her, because seeing the puffball in the empty cat bed on Friday, while she was on my bed, broke my heart. And it broke again last night when I realized she would never use the bed in the office again.
Eccentric and opinionated, if it's fish gimme that, I killed my puffball again!, go wash Lily's ears for her, willya, look at the DAGGERS you've got!, SnipFoot.
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