Today was my day for wardrobe therapy

but I can't. See, I'm de-catting the house.  My husband is not doing so well with the death of Tommy. Tommy was his first baby and 12 years is a long time. Plus, the cat wasn't sick, and it's been such a shock that this happened, I don't think he can wrap his head around this sad turn of events. Neither can my dog. Chuy just follows me around and shakes.

I vaccumed up the loose cat hair, used a sticky brush on some of the furniture. I took the litter box out of the house and into the garage and started cleaning the litter box cubby. That is a gross job. You think things are clean, and then you realize maybe not so much.
Bleach is my friend here. I'm pulling up the old caulk and will be repainting and re caulking the area.  I removed the kitty bowls for his food and I think I have found most of his toy mice. No, I'm not throwing them away- I have kept one in a box for when things get better. And they will.

Just not today.


scb said...

*many hugs for all three of you* make that all four *hugs Chuy, too*

This is a difficult time. I'm glad you've kept one of Tommy's toy mice.

For years, I would dream that my Panther had come back and was walking up the driveway. The grief process takes time.

LOJO said...

SCB- I keep hearing him, and last night I am sure I felt his paw on my head (he slept on a pillow on top of my head practically)