today Mo-kitty woke up in a large spot of blood. his wound had been
bleeding all night. i took him to the vet, who said that this was not
abnormal, did some blood tests, and sent him home with me. since he's not
allowed to groom himself, he had quite a bit of blood on him, which i was
going to clean up later.
i dropped of Mo upstairs, as usual, and headed down to let the dogs out of
their crates.

for some reason i'll never know, Mo followed me downstairs. he never does
this. and i didn't hear him coming. however, the dogs did. they ran to
investigate, and found a strange smelling, bloody cat in their house.
needless to say, they attacked him. poor Mo had that stupid cone on his
head and couldn't see to escape. he was weak and sick and didn't have a
chance. he didn't survive the trip back to the vets. he died in my lap on
the way there.

i'm in shock right now. everyone is telling me to get the dogs out of the
house to deal with my grief, but how can i deal without them? they didn't
understand that what they did is wrong, they're not people. they smelled
blood and instinct took over. i thought about getting rid of them for about
two seconds. but i can't. i love them too much. and i need them more than
ever right now. poor dogs, they know something is wrong, and they're all
cuddled up to me. they don't even know that they caused my suffering. i'm
not angry at them. just sad at Mo's passing. after all that work to make
him well, for him to die in this way... it's like a cosmic joke. like a
bad movie.

i'm emotionally torn. i'm numb. and i'm so very tired.

-kelly