Oh gosh. When we got back, we went to look for Marla so we could give her to Dotti. After glancing under the house, we thought well maybe she was where we found her yesterday. Levi passed by a pipe and joked that it was her dead body. I freaked out, but he was just kidding.
When we got to the spot where she'd been on Friday, and progressively came closer, there was a lump of fuzzy greyness laying in the grass and immediately we knew what it was.
SO sad! The poor thing. We had just finished telling Dotti how wonderful it was to feed her and everything...
And man, she was only half dead. Seriously. A few squeaks every minute or so, and a few heavy breaths, but it was obvious that she was dying. Her neck was completely broken.
I picked her up and carried her to the front yard where we all further examined the poor dear and her slow finish to life. :[
By the miracle of life, Marla is alive. How mysterious is life, how beautiful... Now, if only she would have dies, she wouldn't be mewing so much. ^^ Never die! NEVER!
Honestly, I have no idea how her neck is not broken. Or how her "nightmare" didn't explode her little kitty intestines. Or how her stomach didn't just collapse.
She's immortal. :]
Sweet, sweet Marla Marie. Her mew is harsh and sharp yet poised and elegant, smooth, pristine, albeit repetitive, I'm sure. My little mew machine. Mother will come see you soon! Take a picture of the dear babe, would you? :] Before she gets large and uncute. Hehe.
Mr. Monty is lucky - he's stayed relatively small, so he will always be the radish of my retna.
Haha forgive me. Dearest little Monty is indeed the most precious princess, but perhaps I refer to her as "Mr." so often because I tend to associate boys with having the mental disorders. ;] And well, Monty certainly has a bit of a mental disorder.
Never again will I make the mistake! I now have two beautiful daughtery loves, and bless their sisterhood. Of their travelling mental disorders. Er, pants.
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TOUCH THE BRICK, TOUCH THE BRICK, TOUCH THE BRICK!
DID MARLA DIE? poor little thing!!
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When we got to the spot where she'd been on Friday, and progressively came closer, there was a lump of fuzzy greyness laying in the grass and immediately we knew what it was.
SO sad! The poor thing. We had just finished telling Dotti how wonderful it was to feed her and everything...
And man, she was only half dead. Seriously. A few squeaks every minute or so, and a few heavy breaths, but it was obvious that she was dying. Her neck was completely broken.
I picked her up and carried her to the front yard where we all further examined the poor dear and her slow finish to life. :[
Poor Marla. I really liked her.
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Ughhh I need a nice bath.
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She's immortal. :]
Sweet, sweet Marla Marie. Her mew is harsh and sharp yet poised and elegant, smooth, pristine, albeit repetitive, I'm sure. My little mew machine. Mother will come see you soon! Take a picture of the dear babe, would you? :] Before she gets large and uncute. Hehe.
Mr. Monty is lucky - he's stayed relatively small, so he will always be the radish of my retna.
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Marla Marie the Miraculous of Heirloom. What a brave warrior!
"DANCE MACHINE" Where was that located?
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Never again will I make the mistake! I now have two beautiful daughtery loves, and bless their sisterhood. Of their travelling mental disorders. Er, pants.
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