On the Rainbow Bridge

I wish Mommy would stop crying because I want her to be happy. I love the tree I'm curled up under. It's a Japanese Maple, that rich plum color, the color of memory. I always loved the breeze. I used to spend hours in the window, basking in the excitement of Outside. Now I don't need the window; there's eternal sunshine where I am, and cat grass, and tuna gravy all the time. I can move freely and I never get tired. Sometimes I miss Phantom, mostly because I liked boxing his ears, but, ok, he wasn't too bad - for a little brother. I won't forget any of my family, or the wonderful eleven years we spent together.

Not So Great News

I've been 9 pounds for almost all of my life, but these past few months I've lost almost half my weight. I'm all sunken and boney but I refuse to eat because it makes me nauseous. The nice doctor lady said it is because I have a kidney disease, too much protein buildup or something. She gave my mom these little pills, two of them, and I have to take half of one every twelve hours, which I really hate. Plus, it doesn't really help, at least not yet. I also get force-fed now, because I don't feel like eating. Anything. At all. Having a plastic syringe shoved down your throat is really not fun, and protesting leaves me so tired. But I love Mom anyway. I love it when she sits down long enough for me to climb onto her lap and rest.

I hated the vet's office. I was there for three days and there were dogs barking all the time and my mom wasn't there with me. The people shaved a little patch of fur off one of my legs, but I don't notice it much anymore. And that place smelled. I still reek of it. I came back exhausted.

When I got home, I hid under the bed for the day, but now I'm out. My mom is worried, since I'm still not eating or moving around much and I wobble when I walk, but she says I at least look healthier, ever if I don't act it. My favorite thing to do is lie on my side in an out-of-the-way place, preferably a cold one. My mom always finds me in weird places, like on the bathroom rug or next to the washer in the basement. At least my annoying little brother Bud is mostly leaving me alone now. He's such a dunce but at least he purrs a heaping ton, which I know comforts the family. Actually, when I first got home I purred pretty loudly myself, though I think it scared some of my family since I almost never purr louder then a whisper. But I was so happy to be home.

I guess now we'll see what happens. Supposedly, the food they're making me eat will wipe out the nausea and I'll start to eat on my own, but that hasn't happened yet. All I want to do is lie on my side. I make sure to twitch the end of my tail constantly so that my family knows I'm okay. I know they worry too much, but it's okay because I love them and I know they love me.