A sad day at the Franson house

If you grew up on a farm, you learned to never get attached to the animals. Chances were very good that you would be eating them the next week, or they'd get run over on the highway. I am no longer on the farm, so I guess it is ok for me to bawl over a dead cat.

Roughly the size of a raccoon, and 9 years old, Raisin was a long haired, dark calico manx. Every spring, she would shed great globs of hair; it looked like dead kittens all over the yard. But, she was a great mouser and extremely tolerant of being mauled by infants and rough children. The vet thinks she ingested poison, perhaps, via a dying mouse.

The kids all took it hard, except for C. Without even a tear, she told everyone that it was ok, because Raisin would be resurrected; that we would all be together again. What a sweetie. She took it upon herself to give loves and hugs to make us all feel better.

Another long day for Scott. He is trying so hard to stay awake during the day, but his schedule is all messed up. He's also complaining of that foggy feeling, again. We will restart the lactulose in the morning, but at a lower dose since it upset his stomach the first time.