Belated condolences to Sissy Willis

I didn’t know you’d lost Tiny. My heart goes out to you.

We never really forget them. I still think of Tiger, the cat that was in our house when I was born. (She’s the reason why I say I’ve had cats since before I was born.) Or Lady, who lasted nearly 20 years and at the age of nineteen would still play like a kitten if you dragged a string across the glass-topped coffee table. My first Tig, whose last pictures I just found (and will scan in when I get my new laptop). My second Tig, whom you all knew through pictures on the website. And my current Tig, the goofball, who makes me laugh on a daily basis, and who is the able successor to the other two Tigs.

Here he is, in a picture taken last Sunday, surrounded by a ring of light.

He just missed catching a skink, which hid inside the neighbor’s deck, between two wooden posts. This picture was taken later, and just looking at it makes me laugh. I’ve never caught that particular expression on camera before.

Every so often, I talk about the day I called my team lead up and told her I was done with work for the day, because I was driving out to Colonial Beach to pick up my new Maine Coon orange boy. She inevitably says that she remembers the day very well, because before I came home with a new kitten, “You were so sad.” It changed in a moment.

The loss of our pets is huge. I’m not remotely in the same class of photography as Sissy. But I can send Tiny off with a kitty tribute. My condolences, Sissy.