February 22, 2017
Still spent from my”most bleak and terrible night.” On walks through one’s tasks. One lies down and hopes that a cat, a least, will lie against you.
Titus died five years ago today. I wrote: Titus the Cat left me today. He was the best of cats, sweet and calm and affectionate, a big loving boy. When I balance his virtues and his deficits–most of those have to do with being a slob–he comes out better than most people. Certainly better than me. I am bereft of the buddy cat, and I can’t think of it very often or very long. The vet was inept, and Tutus was frightened in his last moments. My prayer for the day is to get that out of my mind-- though anger did replace grief a little in the office, and I didn’t feel quite such a fool. Little spirit, at the end of all things, please find me.
Was I more miserable on that day? Possibly, but at least it could be spoken of.