Got home from school, fed him, found him two hours later unmoving next to the door. Wierd to think that, just a few hours ago, he was loudling meowing to be fed.
Now he isn't.
So, on the subject of a beloved pet passing on, it ******* sucks. Worse than one of those goddamn piece of **** Uwe Boll mivies, or a ****, or getting cut off in traffic cause if you get cut off you can ram the goddamn son of a bitch off the mother******* road then drag him screaming out the driver side window and light his ass on fire or shoot him in the ******* chest or stomp his head in until your shoes are wet with all the **** he was full of in the first place.
Nothin' you can do about losing a small, but really, really vocal member of the family.
I delt with the loss. I called the nice lady that picks up the body and has it cremated, them puts in a nice little urn with a holder and a nameplate. Me parents used her last year when Punkin died.
But man, the worst part of this was my parents. My stepdad cried for something like 5 hours straight, then kept breaking down into sobs sporradically. My mother was having a panic attack trying to deal with him, so once everything was taken care of; I went to a friends house, picked up some honeymead, and ordered a pizza.
I'm just good dealing with loss. They aren't. We do not mix well.
Yesterday, my disabled stepdad was joing up a ramp in his powered wheelchair. His wheels slipped off the side, he leaned against the control stick, and did a 360 dismount onto the concrete in the driveway. Took 'im to the hospital, got him all stiched and painkillered up.
Today, it looks like he survived a bear mauling or something. One side of his face has road rash pretty bas, and a nasty black eye, some gashes on the face and forehead.... looks terrible!
So today, I was pretty loathe to do anything. I'm the last guy in this house to not have something really, really bad happen to him this weekend.