uh hav u evr heard we’re all alone by rita coolidg

belly compilation

first day of chemo today. have to take her for chemo once a week. until. august. and that’s the best case scenario assuming she never has to forgo a treatment coz of white blood cell count or summ

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=iRxsX_30tjs

my cat is dying and now my job wants me to spend 12 hrs a day five days a week out of the house starting on tuesday

I always thought that Nightshade would live until she’s at least 20. She’s a senior cat, but she’s still so rambunctious, she still gets zoomies. In middle school, I thought about how cats are carnivores, so why do we feed them corn n rice n wheat n shit as a main part of their diet...? I did research into it, and found that, yes, it’s best to feed cats wet food. I made my mom start buying them Friskies. It wasn’t perfect because Friskies still has wheat gluten and stuff, but since it’s cheaper than better canned foods, it’s what I could convince my mom to get. The cats were very excited about the switch to canned food, at least. Later in my life, I started feeding my cats better canned foods, but they didn’t like those choices as much. I settled on Fancy Feast... which is more expensive, and it’s not quite as good quality for my precious babeys as I’d like it to be, but it’s better than Friskies, and my cats love it so much. I started my cats on biannual dental cleanings and annual vet checkups... The vets remark that Ziggy is an exceptionally healthy boi, but his age is definitely much more visible than Nightshade’s even though he’s only a year older than her. Nightshade is just so full of vigor. I would legit arbitrarily guess that she’s 6. As skinny as she is right now, she still plays, she still watches rustling leaves intently, she still excitedly explores when I let her outside. She’s curled up in my lap right now, purring deeply. Her fur is so soft. It’s not as thick as it was because she hasn’t been eating much for a month or so, but there’s still a lovely sheen on it. It’s not greasy or scraggly. She’s so full of life, and she’s been with me for more than half of my life. I barely remember a time before her. I’ve put things off because I so expected her to be with me for a long time yet. “ohhh I don’t need to get that picture/video right now, I’ll get it another time.” “ohh I shouldn’t just sit here with her, I have to get this thing done. maybe when I’m less busy” (you will never be less busy. -_- there will always be something you ought to be doing instead of sitting around. -_-). I don’t know whether it’s better or worse that I know I might have to put her down soon. On one hand, it’s nice that I get to do some of the things I’ve been putting off. It’s nice that my last picture I take of her won’t be an ugly one of her looking miserable. But I’ve been crying every time she does something that only she does for the past few days because I know that soon I’m not going to see it again. I’ve gone through my entire camera roll and put every photo of my cats into a folder. Now, with just one scroll, I can see all the things she’s been by my side for since I was 14 years old. I’ve watched all my videos I have of her trying to see if there’s a little quirk of hers I don’t have a video to remember it by. Of course there is. There are so many. I could never possibly have enough videos or pictures of her. There would always be something missing. I watch a video of her whining at me, and I look to my right at my window, and I remember how she’d sit on my desk and whine like that at me if I stood outside and talked to her, as if to say, “come back in here I miss you I can’t stand to be apart from you for even two minutes!!!” And I cry thinking about how, soon, I’m never going walk by that window and hear her begging me to come back inside or take her with me. I don’t exactly believe in ghosts, but I can’t get the image out of my head of her, when she’s dead, whining at me like that. And I can’t see her. I just ignore her. I can’t comfort her anymore. I’m not going to come to the other side and pet her like I do when there’s only a window separating us. Realistically, if ghosts were real, that would be a wonderful thing. Because I would see her again one day. Maybe she’d follow me happily for the rest of my life and curl up beside me every night as she always has. But ugh. So many stupid things keep playing in my head.