The good news keeps on comin'

Soooooooooo, my cat's dying. And when I say "my cat," I don't mean the family cat, I mean MY CAT. He has a mass of tumors in his stomach, and one on his thyroid, which accounts for the recent change in behavior my mom attributed to his weight loss, which was actually a product of the cancer and not her magnificent diet plan. We took him to the vet today because he licked himself so furiously he has a sore now, and the vet pretty much told us just to make him comfortable. Except that he has to wear one of those giant cone collars and be force-fed antibiotics twice a day now. I really didn't want him to go out like this. I know he's old, I got him for my 7th birthday, and I'm about to turn 21. I just wanted him to end his life with a little more dignity than a plastic blue head ornament and drug-induced lethargy are going to supply. I'm sorry Oliver.

I just appologized to my cat in a blog. I think the fact that I only got 3 hours of sleep is catching up to me.