Sigh... Seriously? Did I kill someone in a past life or is this about the stick of rocket candy I stole when I was like, 15? (I'm so fucking bad ass, I know.)

Anywhosit! I'm just here to update on Teds condition. We got him to laugh, rant and rave last night and he slept over and now he's numb. Which is understandable. I was in a funk for a good MONTH when my kitty died...

However, I can't help but be upset with him. He should've taken the cat to a clinic, money or no money. He could've signed the cat over if he had to and he keeps telling himself "She was too far gone." to make himself feel better but ya know, he shouldn't be allowed to feel better IMO. The cat was FIVE. FIVE! That's a baby by today's standards! I also have the strongest feeling ever that, unlike blackie, this problem was easily fixable.

Mom says "Well sometimes even with help they only make it to two or three."
"But at least they tried and ya know, I bet this could've been prevented if the cats got their fucking shots and got fixed!" I shout on the phone, mad as hell.

Not at her or him, but his dad. I KNOW that prick is holding out on his family and he's too fucking cheap for proper vet care... WHICH leaves me with a nasty moral dilemma. Ted has other cats at that deplorable home, I know none of them are fixed or properly vaccinated and if Chichi had something they all could catch, good lord. So my choice is, let him grieve for a month, letting the other cats die of the same infection or forgo his grief, report his FATHER to the ASPCA and get those cats out of there...

Either scenario will kill Ted or make him go suicidal but what can I do? His dad is a hoarder. He even feeds/tries to tame the wildlife and even though I'm supposed to be there for Ted, his cats have most of my concern.