Last week we lost our little cat, Nala. She was 18 years old, and in my opinion, the very best cat in the whole wide world. The sudden shock of losing her has only been matched by the loneliness I feel without her. David is also heartbroken.
Neither of us particularly wanted a cat, but when our neighbours died, we offered to have her because then at least she wouldn't have to go very far and she would still be nowhere near a road. At first she was shy and kept herself to herself but after a while she began to plant herself on me, wherever I was sitting, and was my constant companion when I was recovering from two lots of major surgery and a broken shoulder. Now she is curled up inside my head instead and I have to get used to all of the spaces where she used to be.
