home

hall and chair
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

Living here I have never had the experience of dreading going home, until today when, after walking Mabel, I realized I did not want to go inside. There would be no greeting from Pomona. Pomona was my talking cat. She would initiate conversation, or always reply when I spoke to her. I just came in and said her name, out of habit I guess. Perhaps I am being overly dramatic or self-indulgent, but when you've lived with a cat for seventeen years and suddenly they are gone...