Last night Rob and I went to a Jethawks game with some of his work friends, also it was Mormon night so he had invited them. It was fun but too long.
Sad news:
Luis died earlier this week.
Steve went back to the pound today.
The Steve pound thing was a hard decision. We've had him a long time now, more than 6 months. He has never been reliable with the litter box, which has been super frustrating. However we extended ourselves in every way possible for him because a) we picked him and planned on keeping him for 18 years. and b)survivors guilt from Percy and c) in every other way he was a great cat, funny and affectionate. We took him to the vet several times to see if he had a UTI or other infection. Gave him antibiotics even though no infection was found. We changed his litter to the most desirable kind. We gave him HUGE littler boxes. In several places in the house. We gave him anti anxiety meds every day because the vet said that might help. We kept bedroom doors closed. We bought a special pheromone mister. What more could we do? This week had 5+ accidents, the last being on Rob's side of the bed in the middle of the night and that was it. We can't live in cat pee. We can't buy new mattresses. We can't trust him. So it was with heavy hearts, and guilty feelings, and regret that we took him back. I am done with cats. It is too devastating.
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