Goodbye

I thought I was ready to say goodbye. I thought I had already grieved for my kitty. But as the Huz drove away with him for the last time, I immediately felt the sadness just as strong as when I found him hurting and didn't know what was wrong (not that we know now what happened to him- we don't). And in true Archdeacon fashion (or maybe it is a Brown trait) I got back to work. Cleaning. I'd been busy since I got up. Keep my mind off what was about to happen, I suppose. 

He was a bad cat, but he was our cat and provided love and entertainment. Sure, we had to hide all our bread and make sure no food whatsoever was left out. One time I caught him with his head inside a half-closed pizza box on the kitchen counter trying to lick the pizza... And I was in the same room! Another time I left butter on the counter to soften, only to find it on the floor in the dining room.... And we can't forget about the time when he was just a wee little kitten and I was sitting on the floor and pretty soon I had a perfect bloody paw-print shaped wound on my back from where he attacked my hair. But what I will miss most of all is our games of fetch. No more racing up and down the stairs with that little sock toy.

I'm going to miss you buddy!