I am a shameless, shameless cat lady. I grew up with cats and have always had one of my own. After my first cat Rainbow, a tortoiseshell/mongrel/burmese (I named her when I was seven, ok?!) passed away, we adopted a new kitty a few months later from DARG. A little black cat with white flecks and big yellow eyes, who we called Pixie.
Pix has been with us for seven years. We found out after about a year or so that she has asthma (yes, apparently this is a thing cats can get). We went through various treatment options until the vet showed my mother (who my cat lives with, now that I’m out of home and in a non-pet friendly place) how to give her an inhaler. Yes. Inhaler. This cat.
Recently, she fell really ill. After numerous days in the veterinary hospital, a lot of touch and go moments, she’s home. She has pancreatitis and, apparently, it’s chronic. We still have a long way to go before we know if she’ll make it or not. She had a feeding tube (that she pulled out, because she’s gangster like that) and now we just have to hope she starts eating on her own.
Why am I posting this?
Because I am a cat lady. And I’m obsessed with my cat. And it’s for anyone out there who’s lost a pet or is losing one right now. They’re way more than just part of the furniture, my little fluff is ever so special to me and to lose her, well, it’d break my heart.