I’ve been MIA today. I just needed to be a sloth. Ya feel me?
The story behind this may be a little long so bear with me. This is not my ginger cat you see me post about and that’s on my stories all the time.
This guy was our first pet as. married couple. His name was Timon. And when he was about 10 weeks old we brought him home. And really the only way I got him was because we honestly thought I was dying.
We had been married a year and I developed a cough. The cough was unproductive. And it manifested from there into something awful. I lost my appetite, I threw up constantly, I threw up blood, I had night sweats that SOAKED my pjs and sheets to the point of having to change them. I couldn’t carry on a convo because I didn’t have enough oxygen in my body. I weighed 90 pounds and the color of my skin was gray.
As I went from doctor to doctor, developing pneumonia to go with this, I told Daryl out of the blue “I want a cat” I always had cats growing up. He never had a pet.
I guess because I looked so bad and the doctors were using words like “cancer” he let me get this guy.
As I had biopsy after biopsy and was missing work to recover this guy kept me company. We watched the 1996 Atlanta Summer Olympics together. He stayed by my side and just kept me company.
I of course got better. It took a long time. I don’t have really any problems from that time other than the scar on my neck.
Timon stayed with our family for many years. The kids remember him. He crossed the rainbow bridge in 2009.
Now he has a special spot on our tree every year.