Yesterday was a very rough day in our house. We had to put down our cat Momo. Jamie and I got him shortly after we got married. He was saved by my brother in law, who found him with the umbilical cord still attached. Needless to say, we weren't the only ones who were attached to this cat.
Those who met Momo knew he was a little bi-polar. One second he would be cuddling and purring; the next he would flip out and attack. We were really concerned when we had Jonah, thinking that Jonah would get bitten. But Momo did really well with Jonah, so we decided not to worry about. That was the way of it really, Momo would attack someone, but then he would do really well for a long time.
About a week ago, he didn't do so well again. We were having some people over for a bonfire. One of our friends went inside to use te restroom, when Momo seriously attacked her. I mean SERIOUS. She was bleeding through her pants. That was the last straw. We knew it was only a matter of time before Jonah was attacked. We knew right then that we had to get rid of Momo, and that no one was willing to take him. So we had to put him down. It was hard. It really sucked. But it needed to be done.
Despite how wild he could be, I'm really going to miss Momo. I'm going to miss how he had to follow me into the bathroom. I'm going to miss how he'd lead me to his food bowl to tell me he was hungry. I'm going to miss how he'd basically sit on Jamie's head so he could lay on my chest.
So this is goodbye Momo.