I often joke that my cats hate me. They don’t. I’m sure they actually love me. But they don’t snuggle me.
When my cat Graydon was still around, he would snuggle in bed with me. I could wrap my arms around him and hold him like a rag doll while we slept. But he’s gone now and the three cats we have all prefer someone else as their “special someone” to me.
Earlier this week, a friend posted a picture on Facebook of this little gray kitty who needed a home.
How could I resist? Greased with a couple of glasses of wine already, I found myself typing the words “I need a snuggle kitty.”
Welllll… that set things in motion, and yesterday I was on the phone making arrangements to adopt the sweet snuggle kitty as soon as we got back from our beach vacation. According to her reports, this little kitty would snuggle up and sleep next to her son all night, then wake up in the morning crying like a newborn.
I was in love already.
This morning I got a text from the kitty’s foster mom saying that my little gray kitty had died very unexpectedly. She didn’t know the cause. The little kitty was fine when she left her this morning to go to work, but when she came to check on her at lunch the little kitty was unresponsive.
I am so sad. I never even got a chance to hold my little snuggle kitty.