This is not an existential question. We are here because the cat won't die. John won't find the humor in this, but he is the one on the 15th floor balcony overlooking the ocean right now. Popeye is not sitting on death's door, but her medication list makes her sound like a cat on Medicare. She has also started pooping on things, as if the box isn't bad enough. No, honey, I'm not mad at the cat, really. I'm just finding the humor in it.
We can leave the house for about two days. We just don't have a friend we could ask to come over twice a day and feed her wet food and four pills. There just aren't many of those kind of friends in the world, and in certainly takes years to nurture these kinds of friendships.
2 comments:
I am VERY sad to hear that Popeye might be nearing the end, I love that one-eyed cat. And you can cull cat-taking-care of friends by offering the same in return. It works well, I find, and the guilt is greatly reduced.
Katheryn,
The pics are great. Thanks and we'd love to take you up on that some time.
John
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