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Why is my cat leaving tiny blood spots

Why is my cat leaving tiny blood spots


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Why is my cat leaving tiny blood spots on my carpet?

When I was a kid, my parents had a cat named Charlie. We called him that because he had an eye that looked like a cartoonish Charlie Chaplin. He was a sweet cat, he would sit with his paw across his face while we fed him and purr, and he had these weirdly wide eyes with long lashes.

In the beginning, he was an affectionate cat who would curl up at our feet, and purr when we petted him. But one morning, a couple weeks before I started preschool, I was in my bed and my mom woke me up.

“The cat is gone.”

I blinked at the clock. It was 6:30 a.m.

My parents lived in a small, cramped duplex with five of us. I shared a room with my brother, Matt, who was only two years older than me. His room was the largest of the five, but he didn’t have a closet. He shared a dresser with my sister, Rachel, and her dresser was larger. Rachel was three years older than me, and Matt and I shared a room. In my room, there was a twin bed, a night stand, and a dresser, which was also shared with Matt. On the floor, there was a chr. My mom kept her shoes and some clothes in a closet off my bedroom, and Matt and I each had our own drawer in his dresser. We had to share a bathroom with Matt, Rachel, and our parents.

My mom was already awake.

“It’s probably something he ate,” she sd.

She turned on the light. Matt was already awake, but he went back to sleep without asking us any questions.

I remember feeling annoyed and a little hurt that my parents had gotten up early and taken Charlie without telling me. That wasn’t like them at all.

The following week, Charlie was back, only he had lost a lot of weight. He didn’t seem to like me anymore, and he kept his nose in the r and his tl up high. My mom and dad tried to play with him and pet him, but he kept his ears up and his tl down. He wouldn’t come near the kids.

My mom talked with my grandma and tried to get Charlie used to me agn. But that didn’t work, and the next week, he disappeared agn.

My mom sd he went out to play in the woods and ran out of food. He had eaten all of our food by the time we got home from school. She put the food in a bowl and put Charlie’s bowl near it. But he still wouldn’t come near it. He would stay in the corner, looking at us and hissing. He even put his nose to the floor and stared at us. He had lost a lot of weight, and when my grandma came home, she gave Charlie some more food. Charlie didn’t touch it.

He disappeared agn.

This time, the kids and I had to call the fire department to help my mom and dad catch him. Charlie was a large, fluffy cat, and my dad kept running his hands through Charlie’s fur.

“This cat’s fur is so rough,” he sd.

Charlie’s fur was rough, yes.

He had become skittish and nervous around us. He’d scratch at our legs, meowing, while the kids kept on talking.

“He just can’t stand people,” my mom sd.

“It’s like he’s trying to communicate that he’s scared of us,” I sd.

The firemen caught Charlie and took him to a shelter. We went to the shelter, too, where he stayed for about a month.

One day, my mom and I were sitting on the living room floor, cleaning our eyes with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol, when we heard a thump.

My mom and I both turned around to look. Charlie had made a leap onto the couch and was looking right at us.

“Charlie!” I sd. “Charlie!”

My mom screamed, “Charlie!” She picked Charlie up and put him in my lap. He was still a little skittish.

My mom rubbed Charlie’s fur.

“I can’t believe this,” my mom sd.

“He doesn’t like anyone but you,” I sd. “He always wanted you.”

My mom turned her head and looked at me. Charlie curled up into a ball in my lap, purring.

My mom started to cry.

“You know what?” she sd. “Charlie is perfect. Charlie is the best cat in the world.”

Charlie was in the shelter for another month, but we couldn’t find him a home. My mom didn’t want him, because he scared her, and she didn’t like me, because he wouldn’t like me.

When he was about to go back to the shelter, my mom and I went to a place where they sold pets, and bought Charlie.

“You like Charlie, don’t you?” my mom asked.

I nodded. Charlie was still skittish, but he was getting more and more comfortable around us.

“Charlie’s my baby,” I sd.

“We can take care of Charlie,” my mom sd. “You’ll love Charlie.”

I put Charlie down on the floor, and he ran over to me and climbed into my arms. He rubbed his face agnst my face, and purred.

I loved Charlie. He


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