by Olivia
(Indiana)
I'm 11 years old. When I was born I already had a cat whose name was Molly. She was 6 years old like my brother. I loved Molly. She was like my 2nd mother. I had really known her all my life. As Molly got older we had to get her in the mudroom so she wouldn't pee on the carpet. She was always meowing! My whole family loved Molly.
Last year Molly became sick. End of Oct to be exact. She stayed behind the washing machine and could'nt move. She couldn't eat so there was nothing in her to poo out. On Nov 2, 2009 my mom took her in to the vet and they put her down. We cremated her and kept her ashes. I'm crying as I write this, but also glad that Molly no longer has to suffer.

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