Quinby, my elderly cat, would lie on the sunny bricks outside the front door. I’d check every few minutes, but I didn’t need to worry. Quinby couldn’t walk very far. One day the vet asked, “Why are you waiting?” I listened. Quinby, rescued 19 years earlier, had always been such a cheery character. It was More
This content originally appeared on CounterPunch.org and was authored by Lee Hall.