I don’t want to write this post, but I feel like I should in order to move on.
The feral cat we took in, Sherman, a.k.a. Batman, passed away eleven hours ago.
In the short time we had him, he filled our hearts with so much love.
Ugh.
I can’t write anything right now.
Maybe another time.
This was his last photo.
“He looks like Batman,” Geoff said.
He actually looks more like a bat.
So we named him Batman, though secretly I want to call him Sherman Hemsley. As a Twitter friend pointed out, that name is currently available.
Sher-batman is 6 weeks old.
He is the son of one of the feral kittens we caught to get fixed.
Some of you may recall that last week I asked what is the best way to go about fixin’ strays.
We ended up catching 4 who are currently at the Humane Society recovering, but we feel guilty for disrupting the kitty commune.
The ones that were left stare at us with disdain or run off in a panic.
“Those are the mean people that trap us!” they say. “Beware!”
Geoff and I (particularly Geoff who has done more work) feel very sad, but we know it’s the right thing. The cats need fixing.
We are the faceless adults in every animal Disney flick.
But that leaves 7 kittens without a mother this week.
We confirmed that they’re at an age where they can survive without (more…)