Baby Punkin



Fourteen years ago, in November of 1994, Punkin was a hard-headed bit of orange fluff.

I had no way of knowing what she would become to me.

I am saddened to see her now, reduced to a tired, old cat.

Driven by the terrible thirst of her disease, she wanders the house, going from water bowl to fountain to sink. I tempt her with newly-drawn water or with fresh-fallen snow but that isn't what she seeks. Nothing we can offer seems to be precisely what she craves, though she will sip a little before moving on in her quest. She gets ample fluids under her skin every evening, keeping her hydrated. That satisfies her for a while.

Comments

Kaz's Cats said…
Reading about Punkin makes me think about my big cat Gypsy. I know that we'll have to part, but I want to hold on as long as possible to him. They each have a way of sneaking in and grabbing hold of your heart, and even though there might be others around, each cat is unique. Please enjoy the time that you have with Punkin, and give her a snuggle from me,

Kaz (Mum to Gypsy & Tasha)
MmeBenaut said…
Oh Punkin, Punkin. So sad to have an unsatisfied craving that keeps her restless. Bless you Laura for looking after her so well.
Meggie said…
I know they are so difficult to watch when they are in such a state but Punkin is so lucky to have such good care that you give her. I hope her remaining days are peaceful and pain free.

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