Greetings from Spockgirl Musings, where logic rules, but the frailties of
human nature, genetic inadequacies and hormonal imbalances wreak havoc.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

I'm hiding...

... or...

Does this tree make me look fat?

My cat from way back.

I think he only made it to six years old. Someone shot him with a BB Gun. I remember the night he came home he hid under the bed moaning meows in pain. As usual, I was working the following day, so mom took him to the vet and we found out that he had been hit by two pellets, both embedded into his body. Mom called me to say that the surgery was going to cost $400. And yes, at the time, I could afford it, and even though it was a lot of money, he was like my kid, so I paid for it. The vet was only able to remove one of the pellets, which was saved for me. I can't remember now if he made it two years past that, but he died because a cancerous tumour formed around the pellet that remained in his abdomen. He had to be put down three days after my thirty-third birthday.

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