Goodbye sweet Bubba Cat.
The first weekend you stayed with us, on a “short visit” that turned into five years, you escaped out a basement window, and I was so worried that you would not know where to come home to, and that you were scared and hungry. It turned out you were under the back deck (we fished you out with a can of tuna three days later, after hearing your rare meows) and you have been permenantly underfoot ever since. You were reclusive when people were around -always sleeping in boxes of fabric, and getting shut in closets – but also a permenant fixture on the back of the couch, purring in my ear while I knit.
We love you Bubba, and we are so sad to say goodbye.
*We made the decision today to put Bubba to sleep. She was an “old” cat, probably between 10 and 15, and had stopped eating, drinking and purring. I spent last night holding her and telling her all of these things, and it wasn’t until this morning that she gave me a quiet meow and looked at me while nussling my hand. We made the right decision, but it’s still really, really hard.