Today is two months since my wonderful companion Cara died in our home, under the bed we’d slept on together for so long. The feline dynamic has been seriously out of balance but it’s interesting to watch. I’m still very out of balance myself but I think I’m getting better.

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It’s been a month since I lost my oldest cat, Cara. I rescued her when she was a very small palm-sized kitten, her little flagpole tail sticking up everywhere she ran. She nearly died then due to an upper respiratory infection that was spread around the shelter. Due to the kindness of the man who (almost forcibly) adopted her for me, she got treated just in time – such infections can be deadly for kittens. She became Daddy’s girl. To me she was a sweet, loving, insightful companion. To others she was a holy fucking terror. She didn’t like people much. She didn’t like other cats either. In fact, Cara didn’t like most things. But she loved her Daddy.

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Those who love and respect the special bonds we can form with animals – the bonds that show us that the term “people” is a bit too specific to a certain know-it-all species – can skip this. It’s not meant for you and won’t say anything you don’t already know. This is directed at those others.

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Sitting here drinking my Saturday morning coffee (it’s almost noon), my eyes focused on the back of a Whiskas Temptations cat treat bag. I had no idea how goddamn weird the Whiskas marketing team is.

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