So now we have to give my little Phoebe back.

Why?

Because mom is bitching about her. She keeps on saying how she likes to get under people's feet and attack people and she jumps up on everything.

Uhm. FYI, she's a kitten that's what kittens do.

But anyways, she finally convinced dad, and today at supper they told me. I understand I'm not the one that paid for her, but I chose her out, I'm the one that's been up with her through the night for the past week. That's like telling someone, "Oh, we're giving away your baby because they cry at night."

Now, I don't want people blaming my dad. He's a nice guy, but mom's words are like venom, once they're in your bloodstream they don't leave. And anyone who has read my journals before knows how much of a bitch she is.

They did say that we can get a grown up cat from the shelter, so I guess that will be okay. I mean, I got Flipper from the same shelter when she was five, and people will always want a kitten, so I'm sure Phoebe will find a good home soon enough. But I'm still so fucking livid about the whole thing. I'm not one to give up on animals, hell, I love animals more than I do humans. I think that when you get a pet, be it a cat, dog, fish, whatever, you stick with it until it dies, and during that time, you treat it like royalty. Because even though you might have saved the animal, in the end, they saved you just as much with their unconditional love and affection. Just like in my last journal, having a kitten is like having a baby, and when you have a baby, you can't just give up when things get difficult.

End of rant.