UGH

 You know, one day I will eventually have something good and fun and interesting to post about. 

But it is not this day.

You know, I actually wrote the story with all of the details and asides, and meandering facts, but I just don't have the heart to publish it. It was sad, and personally traumatizing, and although I'd like to talk about it, it just...sucks. So I will sum it up.

Basically, the three dogs that live next door from us attacked the stray cat we've been taking care of. Hell, I say we were taking care of the cat, but she was basically our cat. She came inside all of the time, and Steve had been sleeping in the living room with her, because he was afraid the coyotes that sometimes show up in our neighborhood at night would kill her. Steve wanted to formally adopt her and let her live inside, and I made a fuss about it because I didn't want an animal pooping in our house, so we had put off the decision until we could think about it a bit more. Nevertheless, I loved the cat. I wanted her to be happy and safe.

There is a weak spot in the neighbor's chain link fence and the dogs got out. I didn't know what was going on, except that I saw the dogs in our backyard, so I ran out to get them back in their own yard and I heard a commotion. One of the dogs, a pit bull (who seemed to be the sweetest of the three dogs when we met them) had approached some people walking in the street. They were yelling, and the girl who the dog belonged to was crying, and it was all very confusing. As I was going back home, I heard the neighbor say "They attacked this cat" and I immediately worried that it was Simba. I went over there and she was all bloody and messy and still alive. It was awful. When I saw it was her, I started crying (in front of strangers, which I hate to do) but they got a box for her and told me to take her to the emergency vet.  They called the cops, even, because Animal Control doesn't work on Sundays. It was very surreal.

I called Steve (who was at church. I wasn't feeling well that morning and I stayed home.) and told him to meet me there. The people helped me get Simba into the car, and I drove a bloody, hurt cat making terrible sounds to the emergency vet. It was horrible. I was crying and telling her that I was sorry, and I couldn't even pet her because I was driving and didn't know where she was hurt.

They took her back immediately, but said she had spinal injuries that would seriously make her quality of life awful, so Steve and I decided to do the humane thing. We got to see her and pet her and be with her while they put her down. It was awful.

So now the cat is gone. We loved her. I keep tearing up thinking about her on the table at the vet's office. She made the saddest sounds. They keep echoing in my head. I hope she knew how much we cared about her. She didn't deserve that.