A bridge too far

Last week I sought out the Unitarian Church in the south end of Halifax and went to the Sunday morning service.  

 I wanted to join the choir and the first practice was Thursday evening.    When Thursday evening came I was still unpacking, tired and didn't fancy the half hour drive through the fog.  So I stayed home.   And I'm glad I did. 

Dear old Tugger, our oldest cat who had been acting a bit demented for a few months suddenly seemed very unwell.  We'd been so busy with unpacking we didn't notice that he perhaps wasn't eating and drinking as he should. 

This pic is from last week a day after we moved in.  We didn't have any furniture but we set up a camp table with blankets inside the front bay window.

That evening his health declined.  We stroked him and Thumper lay with him most of the evening.  I pointed that out to Kait and said that Thumper didn't usually do that.  "It's because Tugger's warm", my rational daughter replied. 

The next morning I found Tugger dead in his cozy bed.  He was cold.  But Roswell, one of our other cats was curled up next to him and stayed there for several hours while we dealt with our loss and dug a grave in the back yard.

It's amazing that a house full of animals can seem so empty because some poor old demented cat is gone.