Fluffy May 20, 1986 to November 16, 2000 Squamous Cell Carcinoma Oh Meatball, you're the sweetest thing. I'm glad you're in heaven, lying in a basket in a sunbeam with catnip, getting your spot scratched (but not too much), not needing insulin, never being too thirsty, not having to be boarded at the vet when Mommy has to go on a trip for work. Do you have Mr. Purple up there with you? Is Bugeater with you yet? I miss you every day. I miss holding and petting you. I miss you coming up and sitting next to me. I miss you talking to me. I miss your sweet, outgoing personality. You're such a special girl -- the barking cat the neighbors used to call you, remember? Remember how you used to think that strangers were just friends you hadn't met yet? You'd like the house Eric and I bought. We moved in on Butchie's and your birthday. It's in the woods and we have a pond. There are lots of birds and squirrels and chipmunks and frogs and rabbits and even deer and wild turkeys! Next summer I'm going to put in a garden near the pond with tiger lillies (orange and black just like you!) and I'm going to put your ashes there. I'm going to put a bird bath there and a bird feeder, too. That'll be your special place, Baby. Oh, Fluffy, I miss you so much. I miss you every day. I wish you were still here with me. I would give anything to have you back. |
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