I'm so sorry for your loss Anne. Godspeed Jeeves.
Just today, I had a brief chat with a total stranger about how much we still miss our dearly departed fur-friends.
He said, "I miss him every day," and began to tear up. We just stood there, holding each other's gaze with sad smiles on our faces. Both assuming we would never stop feeling this way.
I hope your steps forward are as comforted as possible.
I'm so sorry. Anne. He was very well loved.
Oh Anne, I'm so sorry. He had a wonderful life with you, but it's so hard.
I miss my Conversationalist. But it gets easier. You miss, but fondness overtakes the hurt.
My friend who is a neighbor gave me a ride to the mechanic this am after a 6:30 message when it looked like rain. I just ran into work to grab my spare power cord for another. This is why I am in the right place.
Also, Loki, I know it is Love, but kneading my bare thigh? Alternates between tickle and pain.
I look like I cut; my thigh is cross-hatched with tiny scars from Cosmo loving me with her hooked claws of doom.
Yes, I cut them. They grow overnight, like mushrooms.
Luckily, I can usually keep these talons in check. But my hands bear many a scar from my bitey, flip-turn-mood Devi.