Poor Skippy. He lasted sooooo long. He was 19 years and 2 months old. On Sunday May 16th he started to lose all his bodily functions. Unfortunately he lost them all on Ashley's bed. After that he could hardly walk, and wouldn't eat or drink anything. During family prayer he came in and yodeld his I love you meow. On Monday Matt took him to the vet to put him out of his misery. We had a burial in the back yard on Monday afternoon. Such a sad day for us. He was the cat we loved to hate for the last little while, but he was a great cat. We bonded with him from the night he was born. He was a member of the family, and Ashley's big brother that she never had. He had family prayer with us every night, and slept on our beds with us. Whenever we were in a room together he would come find us and sit on one of our laps. We will miss him.
