I was a small, sikish 4 year old. Mom said I needed friends but I didnt. She was wrong. So finally, we got a large, white, 5 year old tom. I loved him and he loved me and I had 4 long, happy years with him, untill God took my loved one away. This is my story, how I told it, how I tell it and how I'll write it in my will. (This isnt me.)
Feb 12, 1940 "Mommy, Cat cant die, can he? Cats are magical. He cant die." I asked my Mother, hugging her tightly and crying. "Cats...well...they arent really magical. Cat is going to die." Mom was talking about Cat, my big white kitty-cat. I loved Cat. He'd follow me, even if it meant going out in the snow. He slept in my bed to protect me from monsters. Cat was my only friend besides my parents. Cat was my hero. I cried as I watched Cat slowly die. He was lying in his bed, a human bed with white sheets and oak finish. But I knew Cat was magical. He had to be. He could talk. "I...I..." Cat staggered. "Yes?" I asked, now sobbing all over. "I..I want...I want tuna." Cat finally staggered out. My eyes were big. If he had enough energy to eat then maybe he can stay alive. I ran to get the can of tuna and fed it to my poor kitty-cat. "Th..thank...thank you." Cat said. I started sobbing all over again. I was going to lose my poor kitty. Why me? My hero? My only friend? Why!? Cat gave me a small kitty lick. "Dont...worry...it....will...be fine." Cat said. "Dont die." A tear rolled down my cheek. Cat smiled and said, "Dont worry. You will....get a...new cat." But I didnt want a new cat. I wanted Cat. Why did my kitty had to go? "Come on, Honey. We dont want to bother Cat." I heard my Dad call. He was home. Later that day Cat died. There was 3 days before the funeral. I was laying in my bed staring at the ceiling. Then a small pit appeared on the bed.
I'll tell you when I update with more of the story. This is going to be in one big story post. |
