Shelba: Louise....

Louise....

Louise is decling rapidly. She is dying. My mom said the difference in her from when she dropped her off yesterday to today is signifcant. Thankfully, she is not suffering, however, she is unaware of her surroundings. Today is the day. My parents are on their way down to be with Louise while she leaves. By 3:45 central time, she will be gone.

She was a sweet, tiny, orange cat. She found me by sitting in front of my door and crying until I let her in and she never left. She is very petite, so petite that when I first saw her, I thought she was one of those munchkin cats. She was not a munchkin cat. She was a picky eater. She didn't like my dogs. She enjoyed stealing food off of the counter. She demanded that her food bowl never be less than full. Whenever we sat down, she came to sit in our laps. She liked to stick her butt up in the air while you pet her. She liked those little furry mice. And catnip. She liked to clean Bob, the cat she grew up with. She was a good cat.

December 23, 2004 | Permalink