No amount of time can erase the memory of a good cat

I've been told that I shouldn't grieve for a cat because they're “just an animal,” but to me, my cats are my babies, just with fur. 
I'm really struggling with Annie's death, even though I knew it was coming.

I had a horrible nightmare last night. 
I can't help but second‑guess my decision to euthanize Annie. 
In the dream, we were at the veterinarian's office, and we had to pick up Annie to take her to the crematorium. 
We got to the crematorium, and right before they put her in the oven, she woke up. 
A man grabbed a railroad spike and a hammer, getting ready to put the spike through Annie's head, and I woke myself up yelling, “No!” 
I can't help but wonder if I screwed up.
Up to the minute we handed her over to the veterinary technician, she was still feisty, still nosy
But she hadn't been able to eat in about two weeks. 
Dead serious, she probably only weighed about three to four pounds, if that. 
Badger insists that she was bleeding heavily. 
I didn't see it, but she had started drooling, and honestly, she smelled like death.
 Don't we all have doubts once we decide it's time to let them rest?

We didn't start off yesterday saying today is the day we euthanize Annie.
I had hoped that once she finally stopped wheezing, we could look forward to another spring with her.
But once Badger said she was bleeding from her nose and mouth, it reminded us of a neighbor who had let their cat suffer unnecessarily.
We had always agreed that if one of our pets reached that point, we would not allow them to go through the same thing.

I called Heron to come home so we could take Annie to the emergency clinic. 
He was upset with me because I had apparently traumatized him years ago when we had to euthanize Gomez. 
I had asked him to hold Gomez during the procedure, and he didn't take it well.
I assured him he wouldn't have to stay with Annie. 
I felt terrible, but we simply handed her over and left her to die with strangers. 
I couldn't and wouldn't watch the end. 
I had witnessed my mother take her final breath, and that was awful. 
I certainly wasn't going to watch a cat die.

So, yeah, today hasn’t been all that great.

We went to Jefferson City this morning. 
Badger has her weekly appointments. 
I tagged along because I had to go to the bank. 
Badger wanted to stop at Dunkin'. 
I think that's her reward for peopling.

I came home and headed to my room. 
I'm just not in any way, shape, or form in the mood to be an adult today. 
Once Cowboy left for work, Badger and I walked down to the Creek Church.

When people started coming in to play basketball, we moved across the road to the Horse Church. 
It was warm, and it was nice to get out of the house for a while. 
We stayed until nearly dark, and it’s finally starting to stay light a little later.

Raven and the kids didn't get here until 7 p.m., and he had them in bed by 9:15 p.m.
I’m guessing he wasn’t thrilled when I told him that I wanted a little quiet this weekend and that he needed to manage the constant noise.
That, plus me reminding him that it will be three years in October since he moved back in. 
Eins is turning ten this year, and Vier is turning three, so he needs to start planning for what comes next as they get older. 
Sleeping on his floor isn’t a long-term solution, and my front room will not be turned back into a bedroom.

Cowboy likes to say I’ve suddenly gotten rather crabby.
No, I’ve suddenly started staring sixty in the face, and I’m over the constant work and aggravation.

I’ve been able to get on the computer in a quiet house, but the drawback is that they’ll be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow.

We had no plans for tomorrow until I went on the thrift store webpage and saw they have a zombie chicken, like Chanticleer and Gingie.

So Cowboy is taking me to see if I get lucky and it’s not sold.
I’m not optimistic, but seeing that it’s pretty darn ugly, no, I won’t get my hopes up.

I think I’ll head to bed.

I’m going to be brutally honest.
The other parent has a pet house pig, and it isn’t a Vietnamese pot-bellied pig either.
I swear, my living room smells like pig tonight.
It’s a bit gaggy.
I’ve put up with the smell for a while, but I think I’ve had enough.
It has to be the kids’ shoes.
I’m heading to bed, where the air is cleaner.