On Good Friday, Josef, my cat was in the studio, sitting in a sunbeam; he had never looked better. Yet on Easter Sunday morning, as if to remind me that nothing in life is certain, he took sick and then later died at the Veterinary Hospital in the afternoon.
Josef had needed special care since his brother, Ossie died. He would not sleep alone without his Brother to cuddle up to and he developed a deeper connection and a special language to communicate with me to make up for the loss. Happy to be described as a cliché; the lady living alone with her cat, I tried to compensate as best I could for the absence of his brother so that the bond which Josef had lost would not affect his health.
He was such a little bundle of joy, a gentle cat who loved to be on my knee. A sweet companion throughout the hours, but especially at the end of each day. He was a little sunbeam, my support team on a bad day and my animal family.
I listen for his little bell on his collar, for his cry at 5 a.m for his breakfast or for the company and affection, for the confirmation that we are both loved. But all I hear is silence.