Alas, Poor Abbi!

There were lots of teary eyes, but we did it.  We took Abbi to the Humane Society.

It has been a long debate—what to do with the cat.  She's been in our home for eleven years—almost as long as Kaylie, and longer

                                                         than Rachel and Jessica.

Ryan,  just barely two years old, is petting the new kitten.

We hated to send her off, not knowing just what would happen to her, but she's been using our carpets and our laundry as her litter-box for a long time, and we hated to have her wrecking the house.  We offered her to give her to other people—we almost had a bite from one of Jessica's friends—but who wants an old cat that potties on the carpet?

For two months now every time I made up my mind to just take her away I would feel bad about it; it seemed heartless on several levels and I just couldn't do it.  Then, this week as we've been deep-cleaning the house and finding dried up cat stuff in the laundry hamper and smelling the carpet as we pulled it up it became much less difficult to harden my heart against her.  But then when I was sitting quietly she would come around and be snuggly and cute . . .

Abbi preferred to drink from the running faucet.  For a long time she had us trained to go in and turn on the water for her.

It was our fast-arriving summer employment that determined the question:  We simply couldn't go away and leave her in the house and hope that she might use the litter-box on the days we were gone. For a week at a time? She would have to go. :-(

So Bruce, Jason, Lindsey and Ryan took her to the Humane Society while the rest of us—yes, even I!—stayed behind all teary-eyed.  Bruce said they were all crying at the Humane Society, too, while they filled out the paperwork for her.

I believe that Abbi would use a litter-box if it was in a convenient spot for her and if there was no precedent of cat-smell making her think that the carpet was an appropriate place to go.  I truly hope that some nice person who would love a mellow cat to sit on their lap will adopt her.

So our talkative kitty is gone.  I don't think I want another pet, but already I find myself thinking we could get another dog or cat . . .