I have been wallowing in my sadness all day over my wonderful big boy tomcat needing to be put to sleep yesterday, Valentines Day. His present was an end to his pain, mine too knowing he was leaving it behind. I try to communicate with my cats with pictures in my mind so all the way to the vet's, I was talking and sending him pictures of being in the garden in the summer and images of the kitties that will be waiting for him. Made me think of the lovely bones story where all the young girls who had been murdered by one serial killer spent their time in heaven together. I hope all the cats and dogs I had even in childhood will be waiting for me when I too get put to sleep.
My cats are so personal to me. Each one is unique and special and I have relationships with them all. Sox, named for his white feet with socks around his ankles or half way up one leg. Sox's name needed to be classed up to Socrates as he seemed so wise. I don't know how many years he lived outside on his own but when he showed up at my house about six years ago, he was a big boy even then. As though he had been well fed always.
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