Word to the wise. My sense of humour is a bit on the foul and strange and awful side sometimes. So is my hubby’s. PLEASE keep that in mind when reading this post, as it honestly makes me LOL…..

The other night, as I was engaged in my nightly snuggle with my 15 year old cat Tika, I started to think of the future of her little life on this planet. She is crotchety and bitchy, she hisses at my dog every chance she gets, even though he has been around for almost seven years of her existence on this planet. She shits on my carpet every once in a while, barfs up goopy (and warm, I might add) hairballs, of which I have had the pleasure of slipping on during one of my in-the-middle-of-the-night-pee trips. But she is all mine, my sweet furry old lady. I love her dearly, even while cursing her very existence in my life, of which said cursing is usually expleted during the cleaning up of her barf and/or shit and me desperately holding back the Voms.

So, as I sat in my chair, my kitty blissing out on my lap with a constant scratch about the ears, her purrs rumbling in her throat and my heart, I softly said to Dan… “You know, if I ever had to make the decision to put Tika down, I think this is how I would want it done.”

To which he replied “That won’t work. The bullet might accidentally hit you.”