As you can see from my previous post, I lost my poor kitty.

On Wednesday I was still struggling with the fact that Bob wasn't eating. On top of that he had spent the whole day curled up in a ball on my bed.

This was not the Bob I knew and loved.

So Hubby and I made the decision . . .

Kid # 2 went with me. I wasn't sure if I should have at first. She didn't go with me when DP was put down (but she was only 5 then). But since she's 8 now, I figured I'd give her the choice. Not only did she go with me to the hospital . . . she also insisted on staying there when he was put down.

Why did I let her do that? Why did I give her the option instead of being a hard-ass and tell her she couldn't be there?

Because when I was 14 (yes, 14) years old, my mom had my dog put down and didn't tell me until after she had done it.

Now I know she did it to protect me, and I knew my dog was sick, but the issue I had with it was . . . I didn't get to say good-bye. After I went through that, I decided I would NEVER keep my children away if they were ever in a similar situation.

So I didn't.

At first I wasn't sure if it had been a good idea. My daughter was VERY upset after it all happened. But you know, now that it's been 2 days later, she's doing remarkably well. And I don't regret my decision one bit!

Kids certainly are AMAZING!

I should be writing lots tomorrow . . . I'm taking all three kids and my former babysitter to the Fan Fest at AT&T Park! I'M SO EXCITED!!!!

Until tomorrow . . .