Thread replies: 3
Thread images: 2
Thread images: 2
File: IMG_20131124_120711.jpg (39KB, 431x323px) Image search:
[Google]
39KB, 431x323px
When I was twelve, there was a family of cats living next to us and we got them all inside and kept them (the neighbors got one before us, but I know they love animals and probably gave it to the SPCA.)
One of them was Tigger. When we named her we thought she was a boy.
When we moved from our ghetto neighborhood to a pleasant rural one, she became a lot more relaxed. We have a huge window overlooking the lawn and she would always stare out of it because that's where the birds and cars were. She played sentry and would hiss when we disturbed her peace.
But at night, she would follow me around, and when I put my hand down, she would prance like a pony to rub her head against it. One time she stood on her hind legs waiting for me to put my hand down.
Last Christmas we went to visit my brothers and stayed there for a few days. The day after Christmas, we came back, and found her under my parents' bed. She was dead. She was cold and had died that morning, with a small puddle of vomit and piss near the bed. My relatives taking care of the house said all she did was vomit, otherwise nothing was wrong with her. She had no wounds, no visible infections or anything, we still have absolutely no idea what killed her. And her mama and sisters were visibly distressed.
I cried like a bitch. I cried harder than I probably ever had (and I cry a lot,) it hurt so fucking much to see her all stiff like that with her paws and chest wet with urine.
My mom cried too and held her for a bit. My dad doesn't cry, but he was incredibly shocked. He held me and my mom and let us cry for a bit. He wrapped her in an airtight plastic bag and put her in the garage so we could bury her in the morning.
The next morning, my mom and I went to the garage and held her for a bit. I didn't touch her paws partly because they were still wet with piss and partly because I thought it'd be disrespectful.
We buried her right outside of the big window, her favorite place in the world. cont
>>
File: IMG_20131124_120725.jpg (308KB, 2048x1536px) Image search:
[Google]
308KB, 2048x1536px
cont My dad was tearing up as he dug the hole. Later that day my mom told me Tigger was his favorite out of my cat's litter. It surprised me. A while ago when she was more skittish, my dad hated her, and she hated him. He tried to hit her once and it made my mom very upset. When we moved, she became more relaxed. She loved to sit on his lap and he was her favorite person in the house.
I've had nightmares about seeing her. In my dream, she'd be alive and well, as if she never died, then she'd be dead, and I'd have to see her dead face again. I still have nightmares. I still my kitty and I still cry. I wish I could move on like I did with our cat that died over a year ago, but she was so sweet. I miss her.
>>
Be strong, anon.
Thread posts: 3
Thread images: 2
Thread images: 2