It's been a year.
My first and only cat, Ricky, died on 4 March 2008.
I still miss her some times more than others. It's not like missing a person, but she had her own personality. I miss the small things: how she curled up to sleep somewhere on me at night, how she liked to 'talk' -- the Siamese are famously talkative, but this one was really something: such a strong and often used voice -- you'd never expect it from such a small cat. The Siamese are also notoriously vicious -- not this one. Ricky was very patient and good-natured, for a cat, that is. Her free will and comfort were always top priorities. Whatever mischief she wanted to do or had already done, however, paled into insignificance when you looked at her eyes -- the most brilliant blue. Unforgettable.
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