Earlier post about Bubba

This time it’s for real. He went out just like he lived his nickname. The vet had to give him 2 sedative shots (each enough for a 50 lb. cat!) and I still had to hold him down when he gave him the “real” shot. He wasn’t even really fighting or threatening though, just growling…

I really didn’t want it to be that way. I wanted it to be calm and for him to not resist. But if he’d done that he wouldn’t have been my L’il Effer…at least his little constantly-purring engine died quickly.

I’ll miss my little Bubby. Nobody liked him but me and he didn’t really like anybody but me, so it’s hard for people to be sympathetic except to say they’re sorry for “my loss,” and seldom have truer words been spoken. It is (only) “my loss.”

Well, and Allie’s. But she whines about everything anyway. This just adds fuel to her dimming fire.

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