To say, "what she said" despite my urge to just hide, so.
Aberdeen, our eldest cat, is gone, the one who's always been both 'ours' and 'mine' because her mother was most definitely Jen's and because she was born unexpectedly sixteen years ago (on the fourth of July, no less), exactly to my wishful specifications: one black kitten with green eyes. (Who delighted in chewing on her mother's ears, climbing into the silverware drawer, hiding under the stove, staring down from a great height, purring so loud you could hear her from a room away, and eating green beans. As you do when you're a beautiful but insane cat. Which I know covers all of them, but anyway.)
So. She was my baby, and she lived a very long life, and, as always, it wasn't nearly long enough. I'm... calm, and not having the best day, and I'm leaving comments on but don't know if I'll be able to pull off answering them. Thank all of you guys who've been along for the ride on this, and especially sarabi, who's known Aberdeen almost as long as we have.
- It seems inadequate