Mourning

Forgive me, I'm in shock and grieving (it's just a damn animal, but still). So I'm going to be a bitch.

It all took about 10 seconds. Ten freakin' seconds.

About an hour ago, my boys were playing with Owen, the kitten. They were in one of my boys rooms with the door shut. One of them walked out of the room and left the door open. The other was distracted by a video game and didn't realize.

It just took a split second. In that second, one of our huskies decided he was going to play with Owen.

I heard a commotion, saw the dogs run by me, and realized they were mewing. I chased them as fast as I could into the yard, but it was too late.

Owen's neck was broken. He died a few minutes later.

Two hours ago he was sleeping on my chest, purring. I have been up with him at night the last three nights, like a newborn baby. He was only 5 weeks old. Yesterday we took him to the vet just for a checkup and deworming. They said he was in great health. He was doing great, even using the cat box faithfully. I never let him out of reach, let alone out of sight. But the boys wanted to play with him and I had faith.

I honestly don't want to hear a lecture about cats and huskies. I'M not the one who wanted huskies. It was NOT my idea. I knew they were trouble. I have not enjoyed them. They have destroyed my house. They have made my life miserable. I'm just being honest here. Everything we were warned about when looking into the breed has turned out to be true. They dig, they run away, they chew, they shed shed shed shed shed. They tear up the yard. I have been nice about it because I love my husband and this was what he wanted more than anything. He thinks they are pretty. I think they are beautiful, amazing animals that need to live in the country on 50 acres. They are not city dogs. No No NO.

More than anything, I wanted a kitten. I believed if I was diligent enough, I believed if the boys understood how important it was, that it could work.

I was wrong and now I have a beautiful sweet and precious gery and white kitten lying on the back of my couch with his eyes open and his tongue hanging out, not breathing and with no heartbeat.

I can't even bury him here at home. The damn dogs will just dig him up.

At least they didn't tear him apart. Small consolation.

Fuck.