This morning my Easter and Ladybug, mostly Easter caught a mouse. It's what cats do, I know, but I hate the playing part. It got so I couldn't take it anymore and promptly terminated the poor little guy's existence.
That didn't help my depression. didnt make it worse either I don't think. Cycling between that and anxiety, which lately has gotten severe. I don't know how much longer I can take it.
I still love my cats more than I like most people, always will. RIP Ladybug's brothers Snowball and Dude. My four cats, my family.
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