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She had no idea what she really wanted beyond sentient symbiosis with all life. Her second cat that she had taken care of alone died ten days ago. It hadn't been quite as shock/hell as the first one, yet plenty of shock and hell. This time, she didn't have a hulking loping architect to throw a bone when he hugged her "You're a good person" when she sobbed at the guilt of the death. She later realized this was his go-to phrase for all crisisi - judging you as "good".
You won't care, but the cat's name was Edith. She was brave and innocent and had had cancer for a while. The first two vets didn't really believe that she was unhealthy. Narcissi had not yet drummed the mantra "I use my wise and powerful voice confidently" so she was left with "things just don't see right with her. Something seems off. She doesn't play as much and seems withdrawn." Of course, after the earthquake of the mommy and daddy splitting up, the mommy was a terrible terrible caretaker. She fed, clothed, housed, and cleaned the litter box; yet it was a tiny apartment compared to a palatial pad with a deck. The mommy spent the first three months wishing so much that someone else - someone who WAS a good person - could take care of her cat. She felt so low and unworthy. She resented the man who had foisted this situation on her. Finally, after months of dithering support, and after having had many donations that alleviated her upside down spending (she used to resent every dollar that she didn't have to put towards expensive cat things - like cat grass or new toys); the crone accepted her fate.
"I know there are two people on the planet that you would trust to take care of you. And I don't even know how you would feel actually if you saw your daddy again, but he doesn't want you. When I asked him to help take care of you, he suggested I turn you back in to the cat orphanage where we got you." big breath, "so Edith, more than anything I'm sorry for screaming at you that I wish you would disappear. It's New Years and the resolution that I'm going to make is that I am your mommy/caretaker, and you are my responsibility. I apologize in advance for being so fucking horrible."
The woman wept every day. she was a bit insane with the changes. The cat grew more and more withdrawn. She wasn't ever the kind of cat who let the guard down or came to you when you cried. She was from the streets, and she never really completely chilled.
One day, she refused all the wet food and the mommy noticed that she didn't have to refill the dry food. There were so many things the mommy thought was wrong: repeat of the teeth thing, maybe the hand-picked cat grass had poison!, maybe the supplement of CBD was not a good thing. So the mommy waited for it to get better. It got worse. The baby never ate or had to be begged to eat. The mommy was sure it was a kidney thing and the prognosis for that was just diet nothing a vet really can do. She begin to panic on the fourth day of Edith eating less and less and then refusing her treats.
Look, it sucked. There's no point in writing about the brave cat and how wonderful she was and how innocent and loved. No one on the planet of earth cared but narcissi. Now, no one was her buddy. She was alone. The kitty gave a very kind death - she wasn't nearly as expensive as the $1600 narcissi was willing to go into debt over. Edith had always been reserved and sassy. She was the softest best cuddler Narcissi had ever known. She had thought the cat might be depressed at the new situation - who wouldn't be. So much guilt.
Now, everything was empty. Ten days later, she threw the food out of the bowl, but couldn't quite get rid of it. It will sound dumb to you, but Nars believed the cat loved her, and she wanted to be a better person to honor the cat's love.
Life was so empty. The only thing she could think of was maybe it was time to write a murder mystery for real...
I loved you.
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