Wednesday, July 22, 2009


I had to stay late at work today. We are upgrading our Internet to Comcast and they give you this 1-5 p.m. window. We all felt it would be after normal hours, 4 p.m., before the guy showed up. He got lost in the business complex and had to call the boss at 4:20 for directions to our building. I didn't get home until 5:20.

Betsy was at the back door. No sign of Rascal. This morning, she was hunched over in the hall but got up to move to the living room rug. She didn't meow, but it was obvious she was not well. I petted her, told her I loved her and I'd see her later.

I walked into the bedroom and she was dead on the floor. She had not been dead very long.

There is probably nothing that could have been done had I been here. Something was very wrong, something I won't know about and I don't want to know. She gave me 12 years of love and I hope she knew how much I loved her.

She had the most marvelously soft coat and the most interesting yellow eyes. She was an exceptional hunter and I've tossed rabbit, chipmunks and birds out of the house. Up until May, she jumped into the living room window to watch for me when I came home. She knew when 4 p.m. was and, if I came home after 4:30, she would be at the back door to yell at me. For the longest time, I couldn't give her Fancy Feast cat food with fish in it because she'd throw it back up.

Betsy doesn't seem that disoriented. I keep getting up to check on her. She's not as complaining as she has been the last three days. She maybe knew something was awry.

I love Pam because she dropped what she was doing and came to take me to the clinic. The clinic, where we just were yesterday, will handle all the arrangements and I'll get her ashes back. She will join Shakespeare and Penney in my secretary. Pam also drove me to Culver's to get food because she knows I'd come home and not eat.

It's going to be a very long night tonight. Rascal slept with me last night, purring up a storm, although I know she did not feel well. I know, in my heart, that she's playing with Shakespeare, Penney and Half-Pint.

Beverage: Pepsi



  1. Oh, Deb,

    I'm SO sorry. I know how much it hurts to lose a family member. You (and Betsy) are in Perry's and my thoughts and prayers. She can meow and play now with Jenny too.


  2. Deb, we're so sorry! You gave her everything you could have and she knew it don't feel bad that you weren't there.