I was a grandmama... for a while.
About two weeks ago, Phoebe Buffay (my baby/cat) gave birth to four cute kittens. My sister and I were really excited about it and we already decided which kitten would belong to each of us (one for me, one for my sister, one for our brother and, lastly, one for the maid). Phoebs brought her "babies" from the secret place where she gave birth in to my locker. There were nights we couldn't sleep because the little ones sang us " meow-meow " songs (someimes to our dismay!). We couldn't wait for them to grow big so we could play with them. But, all of a sudden, Phoebs got sick. Maybe, she ate something. For three whole days, she couldn't eat. She couldn't even walk two steps. She was just so weak. I fed her through a dropper. Everyone (except me) thought she would die. Every single night, I'd stay with her, praying and crying at the same time. It was total torture for me. I was so scared and worried. After those dreadful days, s