Today has, if anything, been worse than yesterday. It feels as if I’m having an emotional migraine, and I’ll be so very glad when it passes.
But small comfort came from a surprising corner. Coming back from walking the dogs, I was met with a familiar smell and feeling…
Our cat, Harry, passed on last year, due to old age and illness. But the dogs won’t go into his place in the garden.
During times of trouble, he’d curl up next to me, always knowing when he was needed (even when it meant lying somewhere he didn’t like).
Today he’s around, keeping an eye on things.
“I meant,” said Ipslore bitterly, “what is there in this world that truly makes living worthwhile?”
Death thought about it.
CATS, he said eventually. CATS ARE NICE.”
― Terry Pratchett, Sourcery