World’s Shittiest PSA

It’s looking like my Stripey old man cat, Torin, is in his last days. Possibly hours, to be honest. I’m hand-feeding food a single kibble at a time and doing what I’ve done the entirety of his life, and that is the best I can to make his life as comfortable as I can. for as long as I can. Me? I’m….

not okay but doing my best to pretend that I’m not staring into the void of a world without my Stripey Love and no longer having an idea of how to function in a world where I don’t go to sleep with him hogging the bed or refusing to let me finish sitting down before he climbs into my lap, or waking up to his nose in my eye because he’s clearly never been fed in the history of ever, or following me around like an ever-present tabby shadow, or a hundred other pieces of daily life for the last nearly 18 years.

The worst part of sharing our lives with others is saying the final good-byes, knowing that we will have to face a world that they are no longer in.

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