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So my parents called this morning. One of the two cats I bottle fed and took care of from 2.2 weeks old (Chloe) is dying of cancer. They found a mass in her sinuses and were unable to get all of it because it had already started to spread. She has weeks or months, because you know what an exact science cancer is.

Yeah, it's just a cat. But she was my cat, even though I left her with my family, because I knew that was the best thing to do for her, when I decided to move. I probably won't ever get to see her again, hear her purr, or pet her pretty black fur.

But she's home, she's where she is most comfortable. She's not in horrible pain now, because she can breathe. They'll let me know when the time comes.

Goddamn, why does it have to hurt so much?

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November 2013

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