Cricket

She’s nineteen-and-a-half years old, and I can still remember her as a kitten.

She has the most beautiful markings: a tortoiseshell, with orange, black and white. One of her favourite tricks was pulling books off the shelf.

Now she’s deaf, and she yowls at the top of her little lungs to announce anything she has accomplished.

That is, she did, until a couple of days ago.

Now she lies in the hallway, making very little noise, and as little effort as possible to move. She doesn’t eat much, although she is still drinking a bit, and using her litter.

She’s still a beautiful girl, and I still love her dearly. And I try to give her love and strength through my thoughts, in the hope that she will rally.

She has been on medication for months now for kidney issues.

Please, little one, feel better. Please stay with us. We love you.

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