Writing about Bravo, the cat from the
rescue center, the other day, got me to thinking about my own cat.
My family had a cat when I was in
middle school and high school. I quite liked her, and I think the
feeling was mutual. Especially the last few years of her life, she
liked hanging out in my bedroom. I'm not sure if it was because it
was usually cooler there, because it was in the basement, or what.
One down side to all the time Kitty
spent lounging on my bed was the fact that she had digestive issues,
and would often leave hairballs on the sheets. There were times,
before we changed her food, that she'd wind up doing it twice before
I could change the sheets, or worse, leave one on the mattress before
I could get new sheets on.
Sadly, Kitty died the summer I
graduated from high school as the result of an accident that I'm in
no small way responsible for. It's been fifteen years since it
happened, and I still can't quite bring myself to talk about it
publicly I feel so bad about that. For now, though, lesson learned,
and I won't make that mistake again, should I ever have another cat.
I miss you, Kitty. I hope you and
little Bravo are having fun wherever you are.
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