Last week, our 8 year old cat was hit by a car on our quiet street and died almost instantly. It was horrible---this is the pet that Michael and I had before we were married, and she was, as I now know, central to our existence. (At our first rental house:)
My friend S. reassured me that my deep sadness was normal, saying, "Pets give context to our lives." Icouldn't agree more. (S. is one of those people who always says the right thing.) Those of you who are long-time readers know that I, as a rule, think that knit-bloggers post way too many posts about their cats.
In the leaf-pile:
Exposing the "white fur of death" to unwise passers-by:
Sleeping with Michael on a Mimi-Quilt:
I'm breaking my no-cat-posts rule today, in honor of my eternally traveling Deco-Kitty. Her final napping-spot: