So some of you know that my cat has cancer. We found out it was cancer is August, they said she'd have four months to live. It was a lump growing in her muscle, and it's been getting really big lately. It finally broke through the skin recently, which means she'll be in a lot of pain and bleeding everywhere. My mom says we'll have to put her down soon. I hope sh can last until my birthday, but my mom doesn't think so. My birthday's in 15 days. I've been with her since I was three. I knew the day would come, but I was just hoping she would last until August 1 so she could be 10. If you've been reading my blog for a while, you'll remember how upset I was when Mickey died. I knew Mickey for six months. I've known Rose for nine years. I still remember the day we got her. My mom and I walked into the adoption room, where tons of cats came out. My mom was kneeling and bent over while we both looked through all the kittens. I looked up, and there was a little black and white kitten with an uneven mustache climbing on my mom's back. I pointed to her "I want that one!". She asked me what I wanted to name her. I said Blackrose, Rose for short. We took her home and let her out of the crate. She jumped out and started attacking the dust floating in the room. A few hours later, after she had explored the house, she was curled up on the chair in the family room. I was sitting on the floor, watching Spongebob. My mom was asleep on the couch. I knew how cats could be picky and not like you at first, so I decided to sit at the other side of the chair, and get closer as she got used to me. To my surprise, she looked up, walked over, and sat down right next to me. She picked us. I was hers. She was mine. She's my first cat, and I'll never forget her.