My cat is dying. I've had her since i was in 7th grade. I am now way way older. Ok i'm 26. thats about...12 years? she is old. she can't eat, and she barely moves...or so I'm told. My mom gives me updates from home, as I am in Italy, and she is in NJ. I never wanna hear it.
Her name is Chelsea. We didn't name her, we got her as a gift from my little sisters' teacher. She was already named, and I don't even know how old she was then. But the thing is, she's never looked old. She was always lively and youthful...and I guess I'm glad that I'm not there watching her die. But I wish I could say goodbye.
She is really important to me. She was my best friend for so long, I used to talk to her. I know, it sounds crazy (and dorky). She had (has) a face like a person. She understood me when no one else did, and she listened. She greeted me when I got home, she woke me up every morning with a "meow" and a kiss. She even slept with me like a baby. She loved me and I loved her. And i really really really miss her. But I know it's better that I am here.
So, now I'm on the hunt for a cat...gatto....gattino....cucciolo. A kitten. I miss that love, that cuddly, unbiased, pure love you can only get from an animal. The new cat wil have a lot to live up to, though. It's gonna have to be super special. And I'm gonna have to just go get one without telling Giorgio, or he won't let me get one. He's never had a pet. Which explains oh so much.
Anyway, that's all I feel like writing about. I love you, Chelsea. Forever and ever.
tears.
more tears.
