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My Buddy...



~This past Monday, 9/17/07, I found my cat Buddy dead in the spare room. He was 9 years old and been with me, along with one of his brothers, since he was just weeks old. Buddy and his brother Pinky were my first pets. I've never lost a pet before.

~Some of my cats can be very picky eaters. There are times when they'll eat just enough of their food to survive and practically starve themselves because they no longer like what I'm feeding them! I thought this is what was happening with Buddy around late August/early September. He wasn't eating much, lost weight and didn't seem to have as much energy. When I changed to a different food, he seemed to perk right back up and seemed to begin eating as usual again. He also started running around the house again, playing with the other cats and gaining weight. I thought he was going to be ok.

~My oldest cat, Mr, who is about 17 years old (a stray that found me nearly 7 years ago!), was very ill the week before last with a virul infection. Hubby and i expected him to die from it. I kept him away from the other cats and I nursed him as best as I could (after consulting with my vet) and he pulled through.

~Buddy got sick once this past Friday afternoon and immediately started acting like Mr had been. He got sick again a few times on Saturday as well. Once he stopped getting sick, I started nursing him on Sunday as I had done with Mr.

~Hubby and I both thought that if Mr could get through it as old and sick as he was, Buddy would certainly get through it since he was so much younger and had never been sick in 9 years!

~Throughout all of this I was also fighting a bad sinus infection again myself and last week also did my seasonal house cleaning, (I don't only do "spring" type cleaning!) went to the annual flea market at the marina Saturday morning and had a candle party Saturday afternoon. Sunday I was exhausted but Hubby and I went foodshopping and did some other errands.

~Monday, 9/17/07, came along and I just couldn't get up at my normal time. I felt as though I had the flu I was so tired. So I slept in. I haven't done that in I can't remember how long. First thing I did when I made myself get up was to go check on Buddy. He was too still. His eyes didn't even move when I called his name. When I touched him he was cold and stiff. I screamed and started crying hysterically. I couldn't believe it. I got the other cats out of the spare room and closed the door then I called Hubby.

~Hubby told me to put a garbage bag down in the tub and put Buddy in there so the other cats couldn't get to him in case he had something they could catch and he'd burry him when he got home from work. He told me he was sorry and not to blame myself in any way. (I have the tendancy to do that! A lot!!!)

~Then I called my best friend Kathy and told her. She was upset too but told me the same things Hubby did. Then I called my Mom. She came over and spent the rest of the day with me, until Hubby got home.

~After Hubby got home, I went into the bathroom and began wrapping Buddy up in the garbage bag. (I couldn't bring myself to do it all day). Hubby kept coming in to check on me cause I was crying so much. Then I brought him outside and set him down next to where Hubby was digging a hole. Hubby put Buddy in there when I turned to go sit down.

~I never expected Buddy to die and I don't understand it. The house already seems different without him. More quiet, more subduded. Less chaotic. Buddy followed me all over the house, all the time and was always waiting by the front door for me when I'd come home, like a dog would! Not that I'd be any less heartbroken, but I was prepared for Mr to go, given his age and how sick he was. I was not prepared for this. Not only am I heartbroken, I feel so guilty and selfish even though I guess I know I shouldn't.

~I think I love my other cats even more now that I've lost Buddy!

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11:14pm

11:14pm (3/16/09) Watching a documentary Tennessee is so beautiful Head & nose all stuffy Out of ZyrtekD - sigh Want to read but distracted by my clogged head Hubby's snoring a little, restless a lot I worry about him He's so tired, works so much Doesn't get to do what he enjoys often enough (If at all) He willingly took my burdens & made them his own I'm still not used to being taken care of Makes me uncomfortable, guilty I took care of things for so many years Are 2 persons "stuff" too much for 1 person? Even a good, strong man? I know what it is to do more than my "fair share" Though the situation was completely different Is the end result the same?