A cute little black kitten, approximately six months old, showed up at work. I was able to catch her and took her home. Well, Casey loved on the kitten who was a bit skittish and scared of feet. I think she'd been kicked about a bit. I arranged for spaying here, but then was able to set up an appointment in L-A. So, I took the new kitten to my daughter's in Lower Alabama. She wasn't sure the cat would warm up to her or the kids, but she (cat) did by Sunday. Cat is renamed "Spooky" and has been spayed today. The 'free' cat cost me over $300 to two different Vets and a cat carrier and litter box. BUT, I couldn't just toss her out to be run over by a f'n-red-neck. (Excuse my French.) (Whether you agree or not, I am entitled to be angry at drivers who run over animals intentionally and/or don't stop to offer aid.)
While visiting my daughter and family, I cried every evening when I lay my head down to sleep. And last night (the last night I was there), I was stifling sobs. I had cried and sobbed a quarter of the way to Alabama (a seven hour drive) and I sobbed about a fifth of the way back. Sobs, not just tears.
I miss Crockett. I have a hole in my heart just his size. I cried thinking that he would not be home when I got back. I cried thinking that I'd be moving to Alabama and not be able to drive 20 minutes to his gravesite. I sobbed because I was driving "home" but not to pick him up and bring him home, too. I miss Crockett.
Yes, I have Casey and my family and my friends (my 'real and true' friends) all of whom I love and would do anything for. But I still mourn for Crockett. My love for him was more than just for a dog.
He was not 'just a dog.' He was my Crockett. He was my 'baby-boy.'
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