Reminding us again that the real sting of death is that eternal silence where a beloved life once was.
Little Girl (foreground, her sister White Back behind her, as always), who greatly resembled her beautiful mother Mama Kitten, her constant companion and ally, left us as gracefully as she came into this short, precious life four years ago.
Her absence hangs heavily over the turf she bravely defended and enjoyed the many roosts of, and where we touched base late almost every night. She was an agile, athletic hunter who could grab a bird out of the air, a gold glover who could catch a tossed treat and pop it into her mouth. She always showed up in the driveway to shake us down every time we approached the door. She carried on the tradition her mother started. They were known as the Driveway Bitches, two natural beauties, demanding their due, and they always happily collected their toll.
An ordinary event, the natural death of a sometimes affectionate feral cat we loved, filling our mortal hearts with sorrow, threatening to burst them, until the sorrow overflows.
Reminding us again that what takes your breath away at death is that eternal silence where a soul we loved once was.