I'm starting my own blog. This way you can look at things I write about and not have to be bombarded with pictures of our son. He is very handsome though, so please feel free to visit our
blog.Anyway, I'll give some background on my blog address. A few years ago my family's cat passed away at approximately the age of 17. His name was Snowball and he passed while my family was in Lake Powell boating. Everyone, except Lindsay. She called me up while I was sitting in the houseboat enjoying the sunny weather. She said "Snowball is dead". Those words hit me with such a force that I won't soon forget.
I of course instructed her to take care of our beloved cat, just as we had taken care of the myriad of dead hamsters that met untimely deaths. Most of whom can attribute their demise to Snowball, coincidentally.
Me: Wrap him in an old towel and stick him in the freezer unitl we get homeLinds: I'm not touching him! Okay, okay... why don't I just bury him?Of course, she was right. Apparently, she held a little ceremony, and when we returned home a few days later, there was a cinder block lying on its side with two votive candles inside the openings. They had burned all the way down.
I guess our pets die when we least expect it, or maybe we expected it and that is why we went on vacation.