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A Journal in Pink Paws

Thank you.

Having to send Columbine on her way, was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. With Cassie, it was easier, because it was so obvious that there was nothing more to do. I don't think she even knew what was going to happen. But Columbine knew.

When we named her, a year ago, we named her Columbine, beacuse she was such an explorer. But since she was a female, we couldn't name her Columbus. So Culumbine it was. She was so curious - I've never ever seen her afraid of anything. Not strangers in our home, not the vet, not the dogs in the vet's waiting room, nothing. But the day I took her to the vets last time, she refused to get in her transport bag. She refused to get out of it at the vets, and when we finally got her out, she was as angry as I've ever seen her. First time I've seen her make a bushy tail. The vet nurse, whom Columbine used to adore, could hardly keep her still. She would hardly recieve her last kiss. When they pulled out the needle, she just kept trying to stay on her feet. It took so long. She just did not want to go.

Logic thinking tells me that there was nothing more we could have done for her. Her spine stood out, her belly was big and round, she'd lost bowel control, lost control of her movement. But seeing her fighting it like that, makes me wonder. And that almost hurts the most.

She was the most precious kitty I've ever had in my life, and I miss her so much. And always will.

I'd like to say thanx to all the kitties and their families, that left so many purrs and sweet thoughts with us and with Columbine.

A thank you, too, to all the kitties that helped Columbine on her way, and greeted her when she got to the Rainbow Bridge.

Jeg savner dig, Bumbo-mis.

Columbine's Mum, Frida

How unfair is that?!

Ok, so I had to spend some time in getting Mina to love me, even had to purr a bit louder, so daddy would allow mommmy to take me home, but hey, that's ok, I can do that. Daddy loves me, Mina loves me...and mum? I'm convinced she'd take a bullet for me. My fur was finally getting shiny, I was gaining weight, everything was going fine. But now I'm sick and feeling really, really bad. I've got a high fever, nothing stays in my tummy and I don't feel like playing at all. The nice Doc says it might be FIP. But I'm not so sure. I mean, how can I spend the better part of my life getting better - and then just die? Nah...not gonna happen.

Phew!

It's been a rough couple of weeks, I tell ya!

First mommy took me to the vet's, which was ok, except when I woke up, my belly was hurting :( I was real dizzy and I had a long cut on my belly? I kept trying to keep it nice and clean, and maybe try to remove some of those damn stitches, but mommy wouldn't let me :( She also wouldn't let me play with Mina for a whole week because of that stupid cut!

So at the end of the week, she took me to the vet's again, and I finally got those darned stitches out! I purred all the time and the nice vet said I was a nice kitty and all. Well of course I was going to play nice since it meant getting those stitches out! I got home and I could play with Mina again! Great!

Except - a couple of days later mom and dad and a friend of theirs brought in some furball in a bag?! It smelled funny, kinda like a cat, but it wasn't very big, so it couldnt really have been one? But it sure hissed at me a lot. Must have been a kitty. It kept hitting me when I was trying to smell it to figure out what it was, and in the end I think it actually liked me, but then mum and dad's friend took it away again? Mina was such a shrew, she sat under the couch growling the whole time the furball was there.

It was all good fun though!