phantoms
It's been a week. One week without my furry, purring, skittish Oz. I miss him more than I thought possible, and less too. I'm away from the house, all day, almost every day, so out of sight, out of mind. By at night, that's when it gets me. When I'm lying in bed I feel a phantom cat at my feet, warming them and getting in the way in the best way. Not phantom like ghost, phantom in the same way that amputees feel limbs after they're gone. Oz is my missing cat limb. I miss him at my feet or snugged into my side. I miss him so much at these quiet times of night when he'd come out of hiding to say hello and keep me company. I especially miss him during early mornings. That's when we really spent our time together of late. I'd wake up early and he'd keep me company, content to sit by me (or on me) while I read or wrote.
I can't even imagine what it's like for Josh. He works from home and spent practically 24 hours a day with oz for the last year and half. I think Josh is taking it worse than he lets on.
I just miss my cat. Is this nightmare over yet?
I can't even imagine what it's like for Josh. He works from home and spent practically 24 hours a day with oz for the last year and half. I think Josh is taking it worse than he lets on.
I just miss my cat. Is this nightmare over yet?