I took my cat Alfonzo to the animal shelter today. The decision to get rid of him happened yesterday, when I came home to discover he had pissed on my bed. On my new comforter, through the sheets, and on to the mattress. Cat piss had dried in to my mattress.
You can imagine my distress. Now, distilled white vinegar is my ally and good friend, and will eventually remove all traces of the sickening smell. It was, however, the last straw for Alfonzo.
I hugged him tight. I told him I was sorry, that I loved him, but I've had enough. I cried all the way to the shelter. He even pissed in his box on the way there, probably feeling that he was losing his home, yet further fortifying my belief it had to be done.
I don't feel the greatest about it. I lied and said he wasn't my cat, up until I came to the man that took my cat. I was crying profusely, it was pretty hard to hide the truth. He was as nice as he could be, I gave him all the info I had on Alfonzo, then left.
And closed a chapter.
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