I feel like I haven't stopped crying since yesterday afternoon. We don't have the results of the necropsy yet, and it's wreaking havoc on our minds. We checked all the cords and electrical outlets in the home-- none were bitten on. One outlet was a little bit loose, though. We will fix that. I sincerely don't think it was an electric shock, though-- we would have heard something. And I checked him over completely before we went to the hospital. No yowling, singed fur, no disorientation, no bleeding or foaming or any signs of distress that would result from external injury. He was actually purring as I held him and kissed him and told him everything was going to be okay. So I really don't think it was that, though Jason had a full on panic attack, blaming himself for not finding that outlet sooner. I had to talk him down from that. I've had my fair share of guilt, too. I mean, I know we got him a vet appointment as soon as possible and took him to the hospital just as soon as we saw signs of distress, but still. Would a day have saved him? I know you can't think that way and it does no good, but it happens. It goes through my head. And then I have to talk myself down-- no, we were good parents. We took him as soon as we saw he was having troubles. There was just no need to rush a kitten who was happily wrestling with his sister to the hospital before then, you know? So it's been hard.
I'll sleep for a few hours here and there, wake up, force myself to drink some water, cry, then repeat the whole process. Had to pull myself together enough to go to the PO to deliver a rush order. Came to Dixie's, cried some more. The shock of the suddenness has abated, but not the expectation that he'll come chasing Olive out of a corner or something. When I fed her this morning, I broke down because he's usually the first to the bowl, and she was unsure about eating without waiting for her brother.
Olive is doing okay. She's usually the skittish one, and thoroughly Jason's cat. Last night, she slept in bed with us, curled up in my arms. She gave me good morning licks on the nose. She knows we're hurting. She's a good girl.
I miss my little Squeaker so much. Jason called him Squirtle. He was just so amazing. So full of love. There will never be another little kitty like Squeaky. Just Thursday, he was climbing me and hanging around my neck like a scarf. We loved each other so, so much. I miss my little man.
I'll sleep for a few hours here and there, wake up, force myself to drink some water, cry, then repeat the whole process. Had to pull myself together enough to go to the PO to deliver a rush order. Came to Dixie's, cried some more. The shock of the suddenness has abated, but not the expectation that he'll come chasing Olive out of a corner or something. When I fed her this morning, I broke down because he's usually the first to the bowl, and she was unsure about eating without waiting for her brother.
Olive is doing okay. She's usually the skittish one, and thoroughly Jason's cat. Last night, she slept in bed with us, curled up in my arms. She gave me good morning licks on the nose. She knows we're hurting. She's a good girl.
I miss my little Squeaker so much. Jason called him Squirtle. He was just so amazing. So full of love. There will never be another little kitty like Squeaky. Just Thursday, he was climbing me and hanging around my neck like a scarf. We loved each other so, so much. I miss my little man.