The vet, as we said, decided that the best choice was to neuter the good old Ciambellamper.
Here's what happened.
Probably the vet didn't have the best anaesthetist with him, because during the operation, while Ciambellamper was as good as open on the surgery table, happened the unhappenable.
Ciambellamber woke up.
Well, what would you think if you would wake and find yourself wide open in the abdomen? Probably you would go postal.
Ciambellamper went postal.
The vet slipped on the floor, falling, while his assistant took back Ciambellamper, sedated him and closed him up. After all the surgery was pretty fine.
There was just a tiny little problem.
The vet, scared to hell, had a stroke and died.
So the good old Ciambellaper survived more than all the other animals my friend David had, he have seen them born and die, while he was always there.
You could say that he is responsable for the death of a man, if we want, but I don't feel I want to blame him.
You know, sometimes nothing work as it should, as you (reader of this blog) should know.
The last time I saw Ciambellaper was just a couple of days before his death. He was in the garden, looking around and doing nothing. The elderness took his sight and most of his hearing, but he was pretty fine, for a 19 years old cat.
I caressed him and he meowed. I told: "Hey Ciambellamper, you're not beautiful that much!"
I think he thought: "When 140 Years Old You Become, Look As Good You Will Not!"
(This nerd quote is just for you)
I like to think that he is now in the Pet's Heaven, with my old dog Bonus.
Both of them doing what they did in their whole life.
Which is nothing.