Without sounding like a hallmark card. and I probably don't. Because in truth I am pissed off. May be one of the four stages of grief? Or just pure disillusionment. Zorro is a feral cat. We taught him to allow us to touch him. We neutered him and fed him and in return he marked his territory and kept other cats away. Yesterday after missing him for a few days we found his body. Sweet beautiful handsome special soul. Miss you. And wish I could be sure we did our best for you. At some level I know we did. At another ego grief stricken level I wonder if I should have done more. Mmmm. Just remember him with love.
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