I’m in mourning for my gray tabby cat, Rocket.  He went out on a Tuesday night a month ago and I haven’t seen him since.  Jessie, a small dilute calico, missed him for a few days.  She would go outside in the morning and sit looking up the path he usually walked down and when he didn’t appear, would come inside and spend most of the day sleeping.

Rocket was a demanding cat and sometimes a pain in the butt. He knew his feeding times and was quick to remind me that I should go to the kitchen and prepare his meal. He was also adamant about going outside at night and made so much noise about it that I always gave in to his demands.  Inevitably, it led to his demise.

I’ve mourned many cats in my 85 years and while it’s never easy, the pain has become softer. I decided not to get another cat, at least not now. I’ll wait and see if the universe brings me another cat. It has been doing my entire adult life.