It is August 30, 2002. It should be raining.
You were taken away, Minchypuss.
We can't play soccer with you anymore or give you tuna or be angry with you for sleeping on the clean clothes or sunbathing in the lettuce.
Goodbye little monster, we miss you!
It is raining on April 14, 2005.
Yesterday I received a call informing me Casper was put to sleep last monday.
After that horrible goodbye three years ago, I never got to see him again.
Minchy was having trouble with her teeth so we took her to the vet. They said it's not too bad but we should get her teeth cleaned.
So we booked her in.
They gave us some antibiotics to give her - and suggested she have a blood test to make sure she'd be ok for an anaesthetic. Blood results came back all normal. Minch was declared a healthy cat.
So Thursday evening we drove her over to the vet, and sadly handed over our crazy cat - she wasn't happy. We didn't know we'd never see her again alive.
Friday afternoon the vet rang us with the dreadful news that she died under anaesthetic. They'd just finished cleaning and polishing her teeth when she stopped breathing. They tried to resuscitate her with a big shot of adrenalin. But Minch was already off chasing another life - leaving us to wonder why, to cry 'Not Fair' and ultimately just to sit in tears and bid her farewell and good luck.