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Ed was devoted to his cat. He had special cat toys, special
foods, special litter, everything a cat could require, Ed provided.
When he had, absolutely HAD to go to San Francisco for a month and
couldn't possibly take Tabitha (the cat) with him, he called on his
younger brother. He got George to agree to watch Tabitha, to brush
her, to feed her, to change the litter at the right intervals, and
made him promise to spend time with Tabitha so that she wouldn't get
lonely.
Ed took the plane to Frisco, certain that Tabitha was in good
hands. He called the first night to see how things were going.
"How's Tabitha?" he asked George.
"The Cat's dead!" was George's only reply.
Ed was in shock. He hung up the phone without another word.
He was in a daze at work for the next three days until he finally
convinced himself he had to call George again. When George answered
the phone, Ed gave him no chance to say more than "Hello," when he
began his speech.
"George, you know what Tabitha meant to me. You didn't have
to be that abrupt. You could have broken it to me gently. You could
have said, "Tabitha is up on the roof. Don't worry. We'll get her
down." Then you could have told me that Tabitha was at the Vets but
that he was confident she'd be ok. Then the next time I called you
could break it to me that she'd passed away. Do you see what I
mean?"
"I guess so," George conceded, "I could have been gentler I
guess."
"Good. I feel better getting that off my chest. How's Mom?"
"Mom's up on the roof," George confided.