So I was hurrying to get my self ready for church.
Shower. Check
Loud tie. Check
White shirt. Check
Phone with voicemail on it. Check
So I hop in the truck and start heading to church. I start listening to the message.
Snowball. The geriatric cat. Has been run over and his legs are broken. The family is taking him to the vet. I blindly pull the truck over. I am breaking down. I head back home. Eventually I get a call that he was put to sleep.
All kinds of emotions hit me. Grief. Sadness. Guilt.
I had been thinking of going to Utah. If I was there I could have said goodbye to him.
He was old. He clocked in at 17 years old. In cat years he is almost as old as William Shatner.
Ok maybe not that old.
So after the initial grief I sent the
Following text message to my family.
“Well not to be marose but Snowball has followed the long line of how our famlies cats pass away. He just has the honor of being the meanest, onriest, long lasting of them all. He lived a good life!”
It’s funny how you can get so attached to these little animals
Here is to you His Imperial Furieness Snowball the Third, Ruler of all he sees.
