Hug your cats

flounder: "...hug your cats. The wife lost hers of 17 years today."

Seventeen years is a magnificent run. First thing this morning I sat with the Old Gray Fellow in my lap. We picked up him and his sister as tiny kittens, dumped on the road-side. Now they're getting on in years. Being a house-pisser and thus an outside cat, he never got as many hugs as he needed. I try to give him lap time.

Today, I was looking through photos from back when the kids were young and we had the three original (unstoppable) litters of farm cats around. Every one of those cats is so long gone now, some died young, some got old, but all gone. I don't miss having that many, but as I looked through their pictures, I missed each and every one of them in particular.

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