What a funny name, isn't it? Charlotte came with her first name. When we first moved here, a woman befriended me at the church we began attending at the time. One day she called and told me she had a black cat wandering around her barn. She really didn't want it. At the time we had only two cats that had moved here with us, so the parade of lost animals begins. Somehow names are changed, lost, or have an annoying rhyme. This is Charlotte the Parlotte. What ever in the world a parlotte is I will never know for sure. It is just how I talk affectionately to Char. She would always try to show she was boss, but she wouldn't scare me. In the early years she would come and sit in my lap in the morning while I had my first cup of coffee.
She had been showing signs of age. Losing weight, finding the sunshine or a warm place to lay all the time. Today she started having some type of seizure. Heart, stroke. I don't know. But when it was three in 10 minutes I knew I couldn't wait it out and made the call. Ah, the dreaded call. But even if I was near her last minute, it was a minute less she would have to suffer.
Au revoir, mes Charlotte
1 comment:
I am truly sorry to hear you lost you sweet cat. Brought tears when I saw her picture, looked just like Gizzie the one we lost last fall. Man it sure is tough.
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