Seriously. Home for one day and pain strikes again. Oldest cat, K.C., had a lump on his throat, and trouble breathing. My parents were going to take him in today, although my brother and I convinced them that he needed to get in as soon as possible, so I went with my mom yesterday to the vet with him. After the vet examined him she said it was probably cancer, but looking at whatever they got out of his lungs she said there was a chance it was Valley Fever instead, since she saw some spores, although it is really rare in cats. If that was the case he needed to be put on an anti-fungal medication and it should have gotten rid of it.

He had cancer. As if we would be lucky enough for it to be something less severe. We decided it would be best to not make him suffer and had him put down. Nine years we had him. I never expected that to happen to him, other than being a bit fat cat he’s always been healthy. He had a good nine years living with us, especially considering he would have died if we hadn’t found him as a kitten, but I think he would have had at least another five years to live, possibly more.

On a maybe better note, yesterday when I went over to the house Pablo looked like he was doing a bit better. His face didn’t look as sullen as it had the day before. Nobody thinks he’ll make it though.

Wow. So it was bad enough that my baby girl died. But today, when we were like ten minutes from the house after the drive up, my mom tells me that they had to put Spook down, because she couldn’t walk anymore. This I wasn’t completely surprised about, because she’s had problems for awhile. They had been giving her aspirin daily and that seemed to help a lot, but I guess it just became too much for her. I think she was around 6 or so, young, although nowhere near as young as Peach was. We had her four years. And apparently my brother’s dog Zoe hasn’t been eating much. I said it’s probably because of the shock from now having Spook around anymore, but I don’t really know.
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I wish that I could turn back time. Back to like, months ago, when we first found the kittens. So that I’d be able to have more time with Princess Peach, the entire summer over again. Or maybe even just back to when I told my mom I wanted her to get fixed, and see if the outcome is differently. That’s what I wish for.
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I hate it. I hate that I have to be 200 miles away from home to go to school. I hate how I barely never get to go home. And most of all I hate how I got to spend so little time with my baby girl Princess Peach. I’ve always wanted an orange cat and when we found one my parents were nice enough to let me keep her, even though I already had Rosco. She was so calm but playful at the same time. She’d lay on my lap and fall asleep, letting me pet her as she did so. She was a little pig and always sucked up to me to get some of my food when I was eating. But that’s all over now. My dad just called me a few minutes ago to tell me that she passed away. I couldn’t hear everything he was saying because he was crying too, but they took her to the vet, I guess she stopped eating or something. I couldn’t really understand him. I got to spend about two months with her over the summer, and then I had to come to school. I’ve seen her about a week since I’ve come to school. It’s been less than a week since I last saw her when I was home, but now when I go home for winter break I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to go over to the house, with her not there. It was about this time last year that Tuffy died, and I couldn’t go into the house without being on the verge of tears. He wasn’t even my cat, he was my brother’s. But Peach was mine, I loved her so much.
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