Today I am lonely. Not in the usual sense, for I have more than enough quality company.
But today I lost the most amazingly awesome cat I've ever known.
A large female Maine Coon, otherwise known as a Norwegian Forest Cat, who wandered in from the woods about five years ago.
I feel sick at heart; my heart is intolerably heavy. This is awful.
My wife, too, is in a real state.
It must have been poison, to go from a strapping specimen, overfilled with vigor, to dead, in under two days.
I assume she's dead: she was at death's door last night, and was gone in the morning, having chosen to find somewhere quiet, outdoors, to die. I searched all day, but nothing. No sign.
Well. We'll get over it, I'm sure, although it may take a while.
I don't feel much, really, when humans die. But somehow this is very different.
It's definitely empty, and lonely.
Goodbye Lily. Thank you for the love you gave us. You beautiful, rough, tough, monster.
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