I finally have something to say.

Thursday night was a bad night. My cat, Oliver died. I knew he wasn't feeling well because he couldn't go potty, so before I went to work I gave him extra attention and water. I didn't have time to change his litter box. I never have time. When I get home, I'm lucky if I have enough energy to feed myself. That apartment is so small and the dog is always making messes, I'm just never up to it. I'm never really up for anything. But anyway... I worked a 12 hour shift, came home and noticed Oliver just laying by the wall. He would barely walk. He wanted to take a drink but he couldn't. Cody stood him up and he flopped over and fell. I tried pouring water in his mouth through a straw. He tried to lick it off his lips but it looked like it hurt him to swallow. We wrapped him up in a towel and laid him on a comfy pillow. We both just stared at him for hours, crying. He looked right at Cody and meowed a few times, then he had a short breath, with a tiny meow, and he was gone. I cried all night. Did not sleep at all. He looked like a helpless little baby. I thought of him as an annoyance most days. I would pet him from time to time and feed him, but I never let myself get too close to him. I'm not really a cat person. But after having Oliver for a year and the  watching him die, my heart is broken. He needed us to save him and there was nothing we could do. I kept telling myself he was gonna drink the water and make a full recovery. Then we'd have a chance at having a real relationship with him. He was a good cat. He liked to play with the puppy. He liked to ignore us all day, then randomly come up at night and try to snuggle. I miss him and I hope he knew I really did love him, even though I was horrible at showing it. RIP Oliver. Take care of Memaw, Billy Ray, and Cody's mom. And say hi to Kidd Kraddick too, please. <3