At 5:30am our beloved kitty Daisy let out an odd growl/yelp. I initially thought she had caught a rodent or something, though that is completely against her character. When I found her in the closet she was toppled over against the wall. I eased her into a more comfortable position and with a few gasps, she died. She was 10 years old.

She was a lovely kitty. And I am glad that I was there when she passed. And this afternoon, it felt sad but loving to bury her in the back yard amid a circle of rocks under the tree.

When Ollie was born, both Daisy and her sister Pippa took refuge under the bed for about two years. Anna had been gentle and sweet, Ollie’s sweetness is not so gentle. But earlier this year, Daisy came down stairs and began sniffing Ollie. She then moved to nudging his feet at the table, and Friday she licked his hair as he hung upside down playfully off the couch. I always wanted a lap kitty. But she was her own gal. I will certainly miss her.

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