RIP Butterball



When she landed on our porch nearly 7 years, never did I think Joe and I would be posed with the tough choice of doing what was right for her. Butterball may have been a fiesty cat, but everyone who came into our house loved her. To Lori, she was the Big Mama Cat. She was sweet and affectionate to everyone who stopped by.

When we got her, she was aging. We never quite knew exactly how old she was. Even last summer's emergency trip to the vet for her teeth couldn't confirm an average age, except confirming that she was indeed "old".

Over the past year, she got worse. Her litterbox habits involved flooding, and eventually not using it at all. She was so matted, her fur looked like felt, and recently, she even ruined her basket by peeing in it. Joe and I decided that it was time.

For someone who has never really lost a pet before, I have to commend Joe. He was the one who took her to the vet. He held her through the whole process. He watched her go peacefully. It's really an honorable task. It's also something that I've never done, regardless of the fact that I've lost two dogs that were near and dear. Thank god for my mom who took one of them to be put down when he could no longer walk.

I hope Butterball is at peace now.