It's been a year since we lost our beloved Kitty.
After he died, I found that if I wadded up the top sheet from our bed and wrapped my arms around it, it almost felt like I was holding him. It took me a month or two to quit doing that. Or three, maybe -- I can't remember.
I walked over to his grave when we went to Grandma Sarah's for Thanksgiving and started bawling like a baby, which embarrassed the shit out of me so I had to meander around outside for a little bit before I could go back in the house.
We've been asked several times if we plan to get another cat, but Mikey and I both feel the same way about it -- it wasn't cats that we loved, it was this cat that we loved, and he's irreplaceable. So no more cats for us.
I think we're fixin' to get a dog, though.
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