THE STORY GOES ON

So...I had to get rid of my cat...

I was going to post on that date, but it was kind of pinching my heart, and if I'd posted it would have just been a harder pinch. I knew it would be agonizing to have to willingly let him go, but I guess...I don't know. My mum had the woman come over at about 4 that day, so I was trying to invision the ugliest, scariest person possible, so that I'd be relieved when she indeed looked like a normal person. I spent all of my time laying on the bed with him, petting him, and trying to see if he could possibly know what was going to happen, if he know that all the while I was decieving him with a kiss. I don't think he did.

But, when the time came, and I picked him up in the usual style he's use to, I think he realized something was happenning, especially when he saw the stranger. I was trying to say things to make her ill-favored about taking him, but he is a beautiful cat, and it probably wouldn't have mattered. Then, because he'd went back into my room, I had to go get him for the last time. I bent down, kissed his soft, feather-like coat, and said "I'm sorry." He looked at me, and I think he knew what was going on, finally, but he didn't want to believe it. So I picked him up, brought him into the living room, and the woman, rather young, but well-composed nonetheless, took him from my nurturing grasp.

I kid you not when I tell you in the minute, standing there, my cat in the others arms, that the transaction was taking place, my cat reached his arms back for me, his silent plea screaming in my mind, def to all others. I attempted to reach out, but the woman began stroking him, pseudo protectively, as in "He's mine now."

He looked at me, I looked at him, and I could tell he'd felt more betrayed in that moment than at any time in his young life. And I, of course, felt that I'd ultimately betrayed him, as well.

I tried watching him in their departure, but I just couldn't. I closed the door, kept my composure for a few steps, Then staired at the ground, hand at my mouth, and went into my room. I pouted for a little while, apologizing out loud to the nothingness that now was my only companion.

Days have now past, and I suppose I feel better about the situation. Not that I don't miss him, or that I don't believe that he was the best pet I'd ever had, and visa versa, but Maybe he's happy. Anyhow, I'd have to get rid of him in a year; it's probably easier now than a year from now.

But, of course, I had to get a cheap substitute in his place; want to know what?

Two Betta Fish. Bah. Hah. Hah. And boy, are THEY affectionate.