The Fighter

Today we had to make a trip to the vet because Rusty decided to get in a fight and come home with no fur on his back foot, a scrape on his chin and bruises under his eyes. Yep, I said bruises. My cat has two black eyes. Poor baby.

"You should have seen the other guy."

This adds on to a recent string of fighting related injuries. Just a few weeks ago he came back home with his ear bleeding and now he is missing a chunk of it. It doesn’t seem to bother him. We told him it adds character.

My little once-a-runt-and-we-didn’t- even-know-if-he-would-make-it kitty has turned into somewhat of a badass.

"You talkin' to me??"

Today the vet asked, “He’s 9, right?” 

I stopped for a split second to think. He is nine years old. Oh my goodness, I thought to myself, my little kitty is nine!!! Time goes by so fast. 

I started to miss Reggie, the first pet Jason and I adopted together. He has been gone about a month now. They were the best of friends. Seriously, you couldn’t find one without the other.

"Nice to meet you, brother!"

Best buds

It made me realize that time goes by so fast, that we have to learn to love and live in every moment. Someday the little things I stress about won’t really matter, but the moments I loved will always make me smile.

Sometimes you have to stop and smell the flowers

Rusty is going to be just fine, he has some antibiotics to take, and a few hugs and cuddles to look forward to.

Question for today: Do you have cats? Do they ever bring you “gifts”?

Rusty loves bringing us “gifts”. Some times they are dead, and other times they are alive.. :-/


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