Sunday, October 19, 2008


There was another layer to the list of stuff I was missing in my verge-of-tears ennui last night: I miss my cats.

Charlie and I got to visit them a few times this week because their new "owners" were on holiday, and they always ask me first for catsitting duty.

Linus and Lucy lived with me for ten years (Lucy for nine; she's younger), and now they live with my friends -- long story short: my husband couldn't breathe, and I decided I could give up the cats if it meant my hub would live, and be a father to our new baby (L&L left us 4 years ago).

But I cried giving them up; seven buckets of tears, in fact. The happy ending is that they are very well loved living with my friends, and I can visit them, and when I do, they are exactly the same. Wonderful and furry.

Lucy is sweet, friendly, and wants nothing more than a tummy rub, which is lovely because her tummy is so big and soft.

Linus is neurotic, loyal, and has to check out everything new he encounters, with great trepidation.

It was so much fun to see them. And it always makes me a teeny bit sad when I have to leave them again.

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