This week, I lost the second of my cats. The first died just about a month ago. She was 23 and we’d had her for 22 of those years and out of nowhere we realized that she was sick. It took a week and she was gone, but we had her in our arms until the end. The second was our sweet baby who was 15. And he’d been with our family since he was born and now … isn’t. Morph, the one who died this week, was my little writing buddy. He drove me crazy sometimes, don’t get me wrong. But he’d sit on my shoulder and on my papers and purr at me and encourage me. And now it’s just quiet. And no, I don’t need him here to write, but more and more, I’m missing his presence when I curl up and start to let the words flow.
Rest in peace, buddy. It’s too quiet without you.