RIP Furry Friends.
They become a part of our families with personalities competing for attention and love, years of unwavering commitment (as long as dinner is served on time), and a fluffy shoulder to cry on when things get tough. So it's not surprising that when we lose our pets to the furry afterlife, we mourn in ways that appear-to the innocent, non-pet-friendly outsider-disjointed with reality but, in actuality, makes complete sense. A few years ago, in fact, I sat through my own father's eulogy for our bastard cat, Bungee (like a bungee chord), who (in all honesty) used to attempt to scratch our eyes out, but the message was kind and forgiving of any warranted hard feelings (sort of). And a decade before that, I felt extreme guilt (for years) over my naively perceived role in the death of our yellow parakeet, Lemon, who was too sick to fly when he fell off my skinny finger that one time. RIP Bungee, the-kind-of-mean-cat-in-whom-my-father-saw-no-wrong; and to both Lemon & Kashka, our-grade-school-parakeets; and Dodo, who-really-just-ran-away-when-I-accidentally-chased-him-out-of-the-house-in-1985; and to Oreo, the-traumatized-street-cat-who-always-hid-under-the-bed-and-deserved-way-more-appreciation-than-he-got; and to all your cuddly loved ones... Enjoy!
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Bungee was the BEST cat ever! Boy, your brother had better not see this!!
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