sad

Apologies in advance to any readers who would like to be reading about snow fall, rain fall, leaves in yards, spring bulbs coming up in January, crazy Massachusetts weather, deer, the Superbowl, anything but little black kitties. But the little black kitty weighs so heavily on my heart.

I've put up pictures of Juliet in my office and showed them to a few people today. I felt ok today (though not really endowed with a good quick brain -- good thing I was working on something more mechanical than creative) until I got in the car.

I cried half the way home, thinking about how much I loved my little cat, thinking about the last ride to the vet's on Friday when I kept telling her over and over again how much I loved her, as I had been doing for weeks.

I stopped at the kitty museum on the way home and played with some of the cats; I felt like I needed a friend fix and a kitty fix, both. Somehow, I lost track of time and ended up staying a while, keeping my friend company (and vice versa) while she cleaned cats and cages.

And then when I got home, I discovered a beautiful card that Dr. Randy, Kris, and Matt had all sent; they'd each written something gorgeous in it. I read it a few times, then brought it upstairs to put on my desk, where I've just read it again.

Randy has now said a few times that he learned a lot from Juliet; I'll have to ask for more details on that one.

Robert and I had dinner, and then I burst into tears, right at the table (no, I'm not a New England native, can you tell?). And I'm crying again. I'm sure that each tear shed lengthens my life a little bit. I know this will get easier. But right now it doesn't feel very easy. I always tell people who ask that the blow is never softer even after a few deaths; you just recognize it all more quickly.