The house has just been so empty and quiet without her, but I have business meetings and life to attend to, and even though I have taken my B12 vitamins every day, jogged almost every evening with Shelby, and prayed, I just wasn't moving past the grief like I should.
So, on the way home from the convention, I saw a Cat Rescue and paid $20 for a slightly homely adult cat no one wanted. She had been on her last day at the pound several months ago, and a group rescued her, but they couldn't find anyone who wanted her. Poor cat had been shuttled from foster home to foster home. Since we were both sort of shell shocked and at loose ends, I figured we would be good company for each other.
I can never replace my Miss Katy, and Annabelle is about her polar opposite: not much personality, not nearly as cute, very independent and a cat to boot. That's about perfect for where I am.
I had tossed Katy's little green bed that I carried her in when I took her to the vet on her last day into the back of my Jeep, because I couldn't bear to look at it. That's what I carried Annabelle home in, and although I had a bigger bed at home better suited for her, Annabelle prefers Katy's little bed. So it is now Annabelle's bed, and it isn't empty anymore, and neither is my house.
Robert Frost once said, "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." And so it does.