At the beginning of July, my cat Mozers got hit by a car and I had to put her to sleep. I had her since the very minute she came into this world back in 2005. She was the only grey cat in a litter of siamese kitties. She was the first to walk, eat, purr and poop. She was my little baby so it was heartbreaking to put her down.
The first few days after are the hardest, and by day 3 you reach a point of being at peace with everything and the world goes on again. But every now and then you have "a moment".
Tonight I took off my black socks, rolled them up into a ball, and then threw them across the room for Bazil to play with. And the memory of Mozers slapped me in the face. She was very "siamese" in behavior and had some unique qualities. One of them was black socks. For whatever reason she was drawn to them. Sometimes she would just go into my closet and pull out a pair of black socks and walk around the house with them. Sometimes she would take a pair of black socks from the laundry, walk into the bathroom, and put them in the toilet. True story! I have no idea why, but it was her thing.
So when that pair of black socks landed on the floor tonight, I had " a moment ", teared up, thought about her for a few minutes, wiped my eyes, got up and put them in the laundry basket and smiled.
Tia
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