What Do You Do

When it becomes too much to sit around and think about the fact that your sweet little Buddah kitty isn't with you anymore.

I know I haven't exhausted my tears. All I have to do is look at a certain spot in my kitchen where he used to always lay, or look at a picture and I'm in tears.

I love my animals. I even love my sister's strange little cockapoo that has a huge attitude, but don't tell them that.

If I divorced I'd let any kids I had go before I would my animals. Their lives are too precious and way too short, though Buddah lived at least 17 years or more, which is quite long, I'm told for a cat. Most of those years were spent with us.

I had to get away from the house Thursday night. So I grabbed my sister, who was in mourning for a concert that was cancelled and we went to Redd Dawg's in Rostraver.




I drowned my sorrows with a Long Island Ice Tea and a Hawaiian pizza. I probably could have had 5 of those ice teas and I still wouldn't have lost the empty feeling I have when I think of my Buddah.

He would have loved the pizza too.