my year of death continues with another loss.
puss no more. it lived up to 17, it lived well.
the aftermath of this death i came to a conclusion that there's definitely something wrong with me emotion wise as i didn't feel anything. considering i have spent more or less every day of 10 years of my life with this animal, it really weirds me out that i don't feel a drop of sadness. When both of my grandfathers died earlier this year I thought i didn't feel much because well one thing i hardly saw them even when i hadn't moved to london. family or not it inevitably distances you from people who you used to see a lot or spend a lot of time with when you were small. however this cat was i guess the closest thing i had to a sibling and its death didn't affect me at all. the only thing i got upset about was my mum, as she was using the cat as my substitute. now that it is gone she doesn't have anyone to welcome her home.