in half an hour, we make the last trip to the vet, and then there's a small hole dug in the backyard for when we return.
and goddamnit,I'm crying. Have to be brave. Have to be brave for my pretty kitty.
She rolled in the dirt and rubbed my legs, and if she wasn't starving to death, she'd be just fine...
i don't want to do this. i don't want to. but i have to.
g'bye Autumn Fall, Otoño, Onrey Cat...I'll miss my baby pretty kitty. Miss her yellow eyes flecked with brown, miss her tortiose shell, miss her bib and her sock and her underwear. Sixteen's a ripe old age for a cat, but it doesn't make this any easier.
Love you, Autumn.