Today I went up to pick up my cat’s ashes.
I could tell I’d recovered somewhat. I didn’t notice at first, but having had time to say goodbye and knowing I did all I could for my cat really helped. I think today is the first day since Friday I’ve been able to go all day without crying.
When we arrived at the Humane Society, an older guy in a New England Patriots jacket came in to bring in a cat to the shelter but before he signed her over, he said to us “you guys want a cat?”
This kitten is mostly gray, but with smushes of white here and there, and a little sliver of orange on her forehead. She has gorgeous eyes and a sweet little meow, and her fur is probably the softest I’ve ever touched.
We got her. She’s hiding under the nightstand at the moment, not too happy to be in totally new surroundings, but she has neither hissed nor growled nor bared her claws at us when we’ve been near her. The only hiss I’ve heard was directed at my husband’s cat, and that might have been from her.
Strange the way that worked out. Strange and wonderful. I have bright hopes for this little kitty.