Just found my photos of my last cat, Stine. I loved her so much, and still miss her dearly. Instead of holding her tail up high, she'd curl it up on her back like an elkhound.

One big photo of a kitten, and three smaller photos of the same cat as an adult. The kitten is sitting in a plastic bowl in a garden. She's looking curiously at something behind the cameraman. Her fur is long with lots of markings in dark brown, light brown, orange and white. 1st small image she's sleeping on the floor while wearing a paper hat. 2nd image, she's laying on a lap, looking almost at the camera. 3rd image, she's sleeping on a lap with her head between the human's knees.
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[–] 1 point 5 months ago

We all mourn the dead as we create the experience of death itself they upon whom we constructed ourselves without whom we are not ourselves in mourning we recognize and call out for context when there is no more left to mourn the world will be over

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