I'm sure all of you know this by now, but my cat, Abigail, passed away on June 23. She was fourteen years old, and had been with my family for most of them. She was a great cat with a big personality (and a big appetite, until the end!). When she lived with me, she slept either on or behind my knees almost every night. There are still mornings when I wake up expecting her to be there. I left her behind when I moved to the big city because I couldn't bear to force her into living her life indoors, and I wish that I could have seen her more than once or twice a year since then. I wish she'd held on for another month, then I could've seen her one more time. Ah, well. Wherever she is, she's happy, and not suffering. She's probably in kitty heaven with the other cats my family has lost in the last few years, looking down at us while she eats her favorite foods and smiling.
2 comments:
Oh, little Abigail. Cute picture.
I know what you mean about thinking your cat's there when she's not.
Actually, I just caught my own hair out of the corner of my eye and thought it was Emmy ... alas, I am in the office.
I know it isn't, but it looks like Small's head in the corner of the picture with Abby- you know they are all together somewhere, Small still being the momma cat to the rest of them.
Post a Comment