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  3. Missing Sunday

Missing Sunday

Scheduled Pinned Locked Moved The Lounge
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  • L Lost User

    Try to remember the most precious gift is to give another a good life :love:

    Visit http://www.notreadytogiveup.com/[^] and do something special today.

    B Offline
    B Offline
    Big Daddy Farang
    wrote on last edited by
    #9

    Thanks, I'm sure we did that. Our other two cats seem a bit lost without her. We have plenty of good memories of Sunday. :)

    BDF People don't mind being mean; but they never want to be ridiculous. -- Moliere

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    • A AndyInUK

      oh its very sad. My two dogs died last year and they were 15yrs old. :( May her(Sunday's) soul rest in piece.

      B Offline
      B Offline
      Big Daddy Farang
      wrote on last edited by
      #10

      Thanks, Andy. Our oldest cat is sixteen and going strong. I won't be too surprised when she passes, but at six years and not sick it's somewhat shocking. Sorry to hear about your dogs.

      BDF People don't mind being mean; but they never want to be ridiculous. -- Moliere

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      • B Big Daddy Farang

        Sunday is my middle child -- of the feline variety. Wednesday night when I got home from work she was on the back porch looking out the window. When I walked inside I saw that the older cat and the younger cat were there too, all waiting for Daddy to come home. That really means waiting to be fed. Sunday wanted her dinner and she ate all of it. That night it was just I and my two youngest children, of the human variety, at the dinner table. We ate our dinner, and then my daughter took her plate to the sink and went on her way. My youngest son and I were still in the kitchen bringing our plates to the sink and putting away leftover food. I heard my daughter call from the living room, "Daddy, what's wrong with Sunday? She's not even moving!" We went to the living room and I saw my daughter on the floor holding Sunday. Like a rag doll. I hadn't yet figured out the situation. I told my daughter, "Well put her down." She lay Sunday down on the floor. Sunday didn't move at all. Not even breathe. "Sunday's not moving because she's dead," I explained. I couldn't believe the words I just heard. Sunday was a beautiful calico, just six years old and in good health. We have no idea why she died so suddenly. Unlike many cats, she was quite friendly and liked to be with people. Sunday was more like a little girl than a cat. Everyone that knew Sunday liked her. She would follow me around as I went through my morning routine. Waiting, watching, anticipating... milk! Once she got her milk she'd go on about her kitty business. Our youngest cat is just over a year old and likes to play fight. Sunday wasn't interested so she would just hiss, growl, and run away from him. Our oldest cat is sixteen and enjoys peace and quiet. She would find Sunday lying somewhere and curl up with her. All of us -- felines and humans -- lost a good friend that night. Now we are all missing Sunday.

        BDF People don't mind being mean; but they never want to be ridiculous. -- Moliere

        P Offline
        P Offline
        PIEBALDconsult
        wrote on last edited by
        #11

        Big Daddy Farang wrote:

        was quite friendly and liked to be with people

        Big Daddy Farang wrote:

        was more like a little girl than a cat

        See, she wasn't doing what a proper cat does and had to be dealt with by the Sisterhood of the Sharpened Claws.

        B 1 Reply Last reply
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        • B Big Daddy Farang

          Sunday is my middle child -- of the feline variety. Wednesday night when I got home from work she was on the back porch looking out the window. When I walked inside I saw that the older cat and the younger cat were there too, all waiting for Daddy to come home. That really means waiting to be fed. Sunday wanted her dinner and she ate all of it. That night it was just I and my two youngest children, of the human variety, at the dinner table. We ate our dinner, and then my daughter took her plate to the sink and went on her way. My youngest son and I were still in the kitchen bringing our plates to the sink and putting away leftover food. I heard my daughter call from the living room, "Daddy, what's wrong with Sunday? She's not even moving!" We went to the living room and I saw my daughter on the floor holding Sunday. Like a rag doll. I hadn't yet figured out the situation. I told my daughter, "Well put her down." She lay Sunday down on the floor. Sunday didn't move at all. Not even breathe. "Sunday's not moving because she's dead," I explained. I couldn't believe the words I just heard. Sunday was a beautiful calico, just six years old and in good health. We have no idea why she died so suddenly. Unlike many cats, she was quite friendly and liked to be with people. Sunday was more like a little girl than a cat. Everyone that knew Sunday liked her. She would follow me around as I went through my morning routine. Waiting, watching, anticipating... milk! Once she got her milk she'd go on about her kitty business. Our youngest cat is just over a year old and likes to play fight. Sunday wasn't interested so she would just hiss, growl, and run away from him. Our oldest cat is sixteen and enjoys peace and quiet. She would find Sunday lying somewhere and curl up with her. All of us -- felines and humans -- lost a good friend that night. Now we are all missing Sunday.

          BDF People don't mind being mean; but they never want to be ridiculous. -- Moliere

          G Offline
          G Offline
          Gary Wheeler
          wrote on last edited by
          #12

          I'm sorry to hear that :rose:. I believe that calicos, because of their genetic uniqueness, tend to be somewhat more fragile. My daughter had one who's kidneys failed suddenly, and we had to put her to sleep. She was only five years old.

          Software Zen: delete this;

          B 1 Reply Last reply
          0
          • P PIEBALDconsult

            Big Daddy Farang wrote:

            was quite friendly and liked to be with people

            Big Daddy Farang wrote:

            was more like a little girl than a cat

            See, she wasn't doing what a proper cat does and had to be dealt with by the Sisterhood of the Sharpened Claws.

            B Offline
            B Offline
            Big Daddy Farang
            wrote on last edited by
            #13

            Well, I guess she wasn't a proper cat in that respect. We loved her despite those obvious flaws. :)

            BDF People don't mind being mean; but they never want to be ridiculous. -- Moliere

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            0
            • G Gary Wheeler

              I'm sorry to hear that :rose:. I believe that calicos, because of their genetic uniqueness, tend to be somewhat more fragile. My daughter had one who's kidneys failed suddenly, and we had to put her to sleep. She was only five years old.

              Software Zen: delete this;

              B Offline
              B Offline
              Big Daddy Farang
              wrote on last edited by
              #14

              Thanks, Gary. I did not know that about calicos. Through our vet she's being sent to the University of Minnesota for a necropsy. It was so unexpected that we're a bit worried for the surviving cats.

              BDF People don't mind being mean; but they never want to be ridiculous. -- Moliere

              G 1 Reply Last reply
              0
              • B Big Daddy Farang

                Thanks, Gary. I did not know that about calicos. Through our vet she's being sent to the University of Minnesota for a necropsy. It was so unexpected that we're a bit worried for the surviving cats.

                BDF People don't mind being mean; but they never want to be ridiculous. -- Moliere

                G Offline
                G Offline
                Gary Wheeler
                wrote on last edited by
                #15

                That's probably a good idea. Cats tend to hide the fact that they are sick, which is why when you finally realize they are ill, they are in a bad way.

                Software Zen: delete this;

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                • B Big Daddy Farang

                  Sunday is my middle child -- of the feline variety. Wednesday night when I got home from work she was on the back porch looking out the window. When I walked inside I saw that the older cat and the younger cat were there too, all waiting for Daddy to come home. That really means waiting to be fed. Sunday wanted her dinner and she ate all of it. That night it was just I and my two youngest children, of the human variety, at the dinner table. We ate our dinner, and then my daughter took her plate to the sink and went on her way. My youngest son and I were still in the kitchen bringing our plates to the sink and putting away leftover food. I heard my daughter call from the living room, "Daddy, what's wrong with Sunday? She's not even moving!" We went to the living room and I saw my daughter on the floor holding Sunday. Like a rag doll. I hadn't yet figured out the situation. I told my daughter, "Well put her down." She lay Sunday down on the floor. Sunday didn't move at all. Not even breathe. "Sunday's not moving because she's dead," I explained. I couldn't believe the words I just heard. Sunday was a beautiful calico, just six years old and in good health. We have no idea why she died so suddenly. Unlike many cats, she was quite friendly and liked to be with people. Sunday was more like a little girl than a cat. Everyone that knew Sunday liked her. She would follow me around as I went through my morning routine. Waiting, watching, anticipating... milk! Once she got her milk she'd go on about her kitty business. Our youngest cat is just over a year old and likes to play fight. Sunday wasn't interested so she would just hiss, growl, and run away from him. Our oldest cat is sixteen and enjoys peace and quiet. She would find Sunday lying somewhere and curl up with her. All of us -- felines and humans -- lost a good friend that night. Now we are all missing Sunday.

                  BDF People don't mind being mean; but they never want to be ridiculous. -- Moliere

                  M Offline
                  M Offline
                  Member 96
                  wrote on last edited by
                  #16

                  :rose:


                  "Creating your own blog is about as easy as creating your own urine, and you're about as likely to find someone else interested in it." -- Lore Sjöberg

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                  • B Big Daddy Farang

                    Sunday is my middle child -- of the feline variety. Wednesday night when I got home from work she was on the back porch looking out the window. When I walked inside I saw that the older cat and the younger cat were there too, all waiting for Daddy to come home. That really means waiting to be fed. Sunday wanted her dinner and she ate all of it. That night it was just I and my two youngest children, of the human variety, at the dinner table. We ate our dinner, and then my daughter took her plate to the sink and went on her way. My youngest son and I were still in the kitchen bringing our plates to the sink and putting away leftover food. I heard my daughter call from the living room, "Daddy, what's wrong with Sunday? She's not even moving!" We went to the living room and I saw my daughter on the floor holding Sunday. Like a rag doll. I hadn't yet figured out the situation. I told my daughter, "Well put her down." She lay Sunday down on the floor. Sunday didn't move at all. Not even breathe. "Sunday's not moving because she's dead," I explained. I couldn't believe the words I just heard. Sunday was a beautiful calico, just six years old and in good health. We have no idea why she died so suddenly. Unlike many cats, she was quite friendly and liked to be with people. Sunday was more like a little girl than a cat. Everyone that knew Sunday liked her. She would follow me around as I went through my morning routine. Waiting, watching, anticipating... milk! Once she got her milk she'd go on about her kitty business. Our youngest cat is just over a year old and likes to play fight. Sunday wasn't interested so she would just hiss, growl, and run away from him. Our oldest cat is sixteen and enjoys peace and quiet. She would find Sunday lying somewhere and curl up with her. All of us -- felines and humans -- lost a good friend that night. Now we are all missing Sunday.

                    BDF People don't mind being mean; but they never want to be ridiculous. -- Moliere

                    A Offline
                    A Offline
                    Andy_L_J
                    wrote on last edited by
                    #17

                    :rose:

                    I don't speak Idiot - please talk slowly and clearly I don't know what all the fuss is about with America getting it's first black president. Zimbabwe's had one for years and he's sh*t. - Percy Drake , Shrewsbury Driven to the arms of Heineken by the wife

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                    • B Big Daddy Farang

                      Sadly, it probably happens too frequently for her to do that.

                      BDF People don't mind being mean; but they never want to be ridiculous. -- Moliere

                      L Offline
                      L Offline
                      Lost User
                      wrote on last edited by
                      #18

                      I would love to have a cat but know that I couldn't cope with losing them. Guess it's just how I am, trouble for me isn't difficult but for others...

                      Visit http://www.notreadytogiveup.com/[^] and do something special today.

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