Fuzzball

I cried for hours until I worked up a massive headache, cried until sleep won out, then lucky me, woke with insomnia at 3am to cry more. My eyelids are puffy like a boxer's after a losing fight, and I feel sick and sad and I still have more tears.

He is gone, no more will he be waiting for me on the fence post, for a stroke and then to bound ahead of me, leading me down the path to home.

I loved that cat, loved him more than I should.

The thing about loving your pets is that you can lavish affection on them, and it's not complicated - it's straightforward and reciprocal as far as they are able. They're not playing games, or afraid to show their feelings, or trying to humour or trick you. No subterfuge, no malice.

In Curzie's eyes, I think I was an idiot human, but I was his idiot human.

And now he is dead, and he will bring me joy no longer.