We lost Pocahontas last night. So suddenly and totally unexpected. We had been canning all day and Sis and I had just showered, dinner was almost ready to come out of the oven. Mom opened the fridge door and it squeaked, causing some of the other cats to freak out a bit. She said that Beatrice was on the birdwatching stool in the kitchen and got all confused by a little decorative statue of bunnies on the windowsill. She fell off the stool onto the floor infront of the food bowl and seemed to have a stroke or seizure of some sort. We tried giving her arnica and we were just standing there and in less than a minute she was gone. All we can think is that her bad breathing must have been a heart problem after all.
Hard to deal with her not there anymore. No more mousies. No more dishwashing frenzies. No more frenzies . . .
Hard to deal with her not there anymore. No more mousies. No more dishwashing frenzies. No more frenzies . . .