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On Saturday my mum had my cat put down. She had a tumour on her chin and she was starting to choke when she tried to eat. They couldn't cut the tumour away because her jaw would have had to come off too. I'm a little bit angry because they didn't tell me that they were going to do it and I rang my parents on Sunday. They didn't even call me.
Bessie was thirteen, she belonged to the next door neighbour but moved in with us when she was about two years old. She climbed trees like a squirrel and abused the mice in the garden, she was perfectly feral, a very fidgety cat. When we moved from Finchley to Hertfordshire she came with us instead of going with the neighbours. She had four kittens, two died before she did, the other two are living happily with some people my mum knows. Now there is only one pet left in my house out of the millions that once existed, I hope George lives forever. |
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