sad day

[Diana]

Diana slips in the door, none of the usual spring in her step. She pours
herself a cup of whatever is in the nearest pot, and takes a seat at an
out-of-the-way table. Her shoulders are drooping, and her eyes are cast
downward toward the cup, not really looking at it. She takes a sip of some
kind of coffee, not really tasting it. Letting out a big sigh, she leans
back in her chair and looks up toward whoever is in the place today, not
really seeing them. "She was only a cat, but I miss her. Her name was
Camille, and she was very sick for weeks and weeks. She's gone now." Diana
rummages in her purse, takes out a tissue, and blows her nose. "We were
great pals," she finishes, smiling wistfully. "I'm so glad to have known
her."

[Jennifer Peters]

Post by Diana
Diana slips in the door, none of the usual spring in her step. She pours
herself a cup of whatever is in the nearest pot, and takes a seat at an
out-of-the-way table. Her shoulders are drooping, and her eyes are cast
downward toward the cup, not really looking at it. She takes a sip of some
kind of coffee, not really tasting it. Letting out a big sigh, she leans
back in her chair and looks up toward whoever is in the place today, not
really seeing them. "She was only a cat, but I miss her. Her name was
Camille, and she was very sick for weeks and weeks. She's gone now." Diana
rummages in her purse, takes out a tissue, and blows her nose. "We were
great pals," she finishes, smiling wistfully. "I'm so glad to have known
her."

Gemini slips the cup out of Diana's hand and replaces it with a cup of
her favorite.

"Been there, dear. A wonderful dog named Sebastian, not a cat. So,
what was wonderful about Camille?"

[Diana]

Post by Jennifer Peters

Post by Diana
Diana slips in the door, none of the usual spring in her step. She pours
herself a cup of whatever is in the nearest pot, and takes a seat at an
out-of-the-way table. Her shoulders are drooping, and her eyes are cast
downward toward the cup, not really looking at it. She takes a sip of some
kind of coffee, not really tasting it. Letting out a big sigh, she leans
back in her chair and looks up toward whoever is in the place today, not
really seeing them. "She was only a cat, but I miss her. Her name was
Camille, and she was very sick for weeks and weeks. She's gone now." Diana
rummages in her purse, takes out a tissue, and blows her nose. "We were
great pals," she finishes, smiling wistfully. "I'm so glad to have known
her."

Gemini slips the cup out of Diana's hand and replaces it with a cup of
her favorite.
"Been there, dear. A wonderful dog named Sebastian, not a cat. So,
what was wonderful about Camille?"

"Thanks, Gemini. And I'm sorry about Sebastian."

Diana ponders the question for a moment, choosing which of Camille's
qualities would sum her up the best. "Camille was exceptionally smart, an
excellent problem solver, understood a lot of words and phrases, knew
exactly when it was time for things to happen, stuff like that -- things
people might usually associate with dogs. She was playful and exuberant,
lithe and strong, would "air mail" herself from one piece of furniture to
another with such ease and grace, and sometimes be found lounging on the
tops of my tallest cabinets. She was a Maine Coon, and weighed just under
18 pounds, so each of her physical maneuvers seemed extra impressive. She
was a snuggler; never missed a night of coming into bed to cuddle at my
side, or a morning of waking me with purrs and whiskers and gentle pats on
my face. She had charming quirks: her favorite object was a leather
string, and her favorite game was to catch it and carry it to her food bowl
as if she were pretending to feed it; she would sometimes take a towel down
and make herself a bed on the bathroom floor. She was my shadow during all
of my hours at home; I supposed the fact that she had chosen me to adore
made her even more adorable to me. I have a million fond memories that
will eventually take the place of the bad things that happened near the end.
And I have Celeste, Camille's half-sister, who is every bit as wonderful.

"What was Sebastian like?"