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Jul. 12th, 2009 09:31 pmIt always takes me a little while to emotionally process things. Currently, I'm dealing with the fact that not just my dog, Samantha (who is about fourteen years old) but my kitty, Daisy (who is less than five) are both sick and very likely going to be departing this life sooner rather than later. Sam is not the issue that's upsetting me the most right now -- she's old, she's arthritic, and she's started biting people.
But Daisy? Daisy, my little mostly-Siamese fuzzy, has leukemia, and I'll probably never see her again. And right now, my heart is breaking. All I can picture in my head is my Daisy, whose fur absorbed more tears than I care to remember, who slept with me, warm and purring under the blankets when the room got too cold for her, who stole countless straws from my drinks, who scratched up my books and wouldn't let me sleep, who loved to be brushed, and loved her little scratching pad. My Daisy, the first cat that was mine, is going to die, and I'll never get to pet her or hold her ever again. I barely have any pictures of her. I wish so much that I could have brought her to TX with me, but it just wasn't possible. J's very allergic, and there's no way that I would have allowed Daisy to be an outdoors cat here, hundreds of miles from her territory.
I miss her so much as it is. I cried for her several weeks ago because the kittens at PetSmart reminded me of her. I like it here in TX, and I love J so much, but it's so hard sometimes to be away from the friends and family that I left behind in FL. It has always been hardest to deal with the fact that I left my cat in my grandparents' care -- I can call my friends and family. I cannot remotely snuggle with my kitty.
Everytime I try to close my eyes and sleep tonight, she's all I see and remember, and the tears start up again. It's happening right this second; it's difficult to see the screen.
But Daisy? Daisy, my little mostly-Siamese fuzzy, has leukemia, and I'll probably never see her again. And right now, my heart is breaking. All I can picture in my head is my Daisy, whose fur absorbed more tears than I care to remember, who slept with me, warm and purring under the blankets when the room got too cold for her, who stole countless straws from my drinks, who scratched up my books and wouldn't let me sleep, who loved to be brushed, and loved her little scratching pad. My Daisy, the first cat that was mine, is going to die, and I'll never get to pet her or hold her ever again. I barely have any pictures of her. I wish so much that I could have brought her to TX with me, but it just wasn't possible. J's very allergic, and there's no way that I would have allowed Daisy to be an outdoors cat here, hundreds of miles from her territory.
I miss her so much as it is. I cried for her several weeks ago because the kittens at PetSmart reminded me of her. I like it here in TX, and I love J so much, but it's so hard sometimes to be away from the friends and family that I left behind in FL. It has always been hardest to deal with the fact that I left my cat in my grandparents' care -- I can call my friends and family. I cannot remotely snuggle with my kitty.
Everytime I try to close my eyes and sleep tonight, she's all I see and remember, and the tears start up again. It's happening right this second; it's difficult to see the screen.
