At dinner last week, we got asked about our cats. I had to say 3, but had to mention we had 4, and mentioned Bubby's death. Started to change the subject, then, I don't know why, I recounted the first time I saw him and how we came to adopt him. Was I testing myself? I was ok, I thought. I kept it short and cute. I didn't cry, my voice didn't quaver. We all laughed, and said, 'awwww', sweet story, hmmm?
But when we got home, I bawled and bawled. And the next day. And the next day. It took till the 3rd day for some of the pain to subside. It's still too soon.
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