I have one cat left from the cats I once had . . . I had too many, but loved them all. One by one they have grown old, sickly, and died.
This last cat, named Hunter, has been under the weather lately. She’s been to the vet twice and gotten an antibiotic shot. The ultimate “fix” for her ailment is a $1500 surgery that she might not survive.
This morning I was taking a bag of garbage out to the garbage can. On my way back to the house, I saw she had tangled herself up in the front curtains and was frantically scratching on the front window. I opened that door (I usually go out the side door), and let her out. She ran around the front yard a few times and eventually ran back in the house and got in her regular “spot”. I guess she had a bit of cabin fever? She used to prefer being outside, but since she’s gotten sick, she doesn’t want to be there unless I stay out with her.
This is the last cat I’ll ever have. I’ve developed an allergy to cat dander and have to use my inhaler after spending time with her. I do love her and have enjoyed her company for 15 years.