I have to apologize to my avid readers (too bad you can't hear my LOL with THAT one!) for the hiatus. It's been a rough couple of weeks at our home. We're kitty people and have experienced both sickness and loss in the furry part of our family. Our "firstborn," Maggie, had major surgery a week and a half ago and is thankfully recovering slowly, although it's been a challenge to keep her medicated and cleaned up and confined during the process. However, we're feeling the loss of one of our other adoptees, Abby, who we had to say goodbye to last weekend. She's been struggling for awhile with kidney disease and high blood pressure, but she had some complications last weekend that left us no choice. Having "real" children now, my own flesh and blood, has certainly changed my perspective on the depth of the love for my pets, but I have to say there's still a pretty big hole in my heart when I lose one. Just before our first son was born, my husband and I had to make that same decision for another kitty, and it really devastated us. The difference now is there's really no time for mourning, for remembering, when there are two-legged babies to take care of. As I was saying my teary goodbye last Sunday, my oldest son (who we purposely kept in the dark about what was going on) was tugging on my leg, needing something for a game he was playing, and the baby was waking up, ready to get out of his carrier. My husband and I just looked at each other, being very quickly reminded that "life goes on" even when you're losing someone you love. So, I'm going to take this moment to say "goodbye" and "thank you" to a very special kitty who we are grateful to have taken from living under one of our rental homes and brought into our family. She endured moves across the country, kitty cancer, and other maladies, always returning to a soft spot between us on the bed at night. Friends loved to look at her extra toes, and the very lucky ones had their laps warmed by her as soon as they sat down. I miss having to remind her that my lap was not quite big enough for a baby AND her and feeling her head rubbing against my chin. So, to you, Abby, playing somewhere happily in kitty-heaven, thank you for being in our lives and making it a happier and warmer place while we had you.