My mom had to put her cat down today. Georgie was almost 15. She got him from the neighbor when I was in my senior year of high school. Until then, we'd had everything BUT cats and I was decidedly not a cat person. But damn, this cat looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooved my mom.
While I am sad that Georgie died, I'm even more upset because my mom is upset. I hate when she's upset. Part of the reason she's upset is because she feels that she keeps having to have things put to sleep. 3 years ago, she had no choice but to turn my dad's machines off in the hospital and let him go. Now she had to put the cat, who was essentially her son, to sleep. It doesn't much matter that these things were necessary, that the suffering would have been worse otherwise. She knows this. But it's still sad. And if Mama ain't happy, ain't no one happy.
