You were not loved long, but you were loved well.
Foxy's last days were filled with a little more love than even his rugged exterior could stand, as I got kicked in the rear, ribs, and nose by a sinus thing. I came home from a very fun evening with the girls and went to bed, then woke up to the phone ringing around 8:30 Tuesday morning (which is extremely late for me). It was GB telling me he wasn't able to come home as expected, but I wasn't really able to make out many of the details because I was feeling very much like one of those flattened cartoon characters that have been run over by a cement truck. I called the store and cancelled my class, then sat down to knit... I woke up four hours later long enough to go to the store to get TheraFlu (nector of the gods) and Sudafed (shiny blue capsules of the gods) and came home and went back to sleep. All in all I was awake for about four hours total yesterday.
Today was much better in that I was awake for nearly eight hours. I know - I'm a wild woman. The cats have been checking my pulse regularly, along with finding fun new positions that allow them to both sleep on me without actually touching or making eye contact of any kind.
All of this meant that Oscar didn't get the attention he deserved, which meant that Foxy got all the misplaced affection and then some, and it meant paying the ultimate price....
It took some great distraction to get Foxy (and Foxy's inerds, which were scattered all over the house) into the trash can without a mutiny. Now I just have a depressed pitbull on my hands.
If I have the energy, I may have to go on a hunt for Foxy II (the sequel) tomorrow.