I choose to believe that it was a token of love and respect from my friend

Sinsull,

True story. When the family cat of 12 years was put down in June, it was done without my knowledge, without my consent, and in fact when I was staying 120 miles away. This bombshell got dropped on me as I walked in the door from work that evening.

I really loved that animal.

Stunned stupid that I didn't even get to say goodbye -- and consequently too numb to be angry yet at the callousness of how it was handled by the decision-makers -- I dialed up the boyfriend at work, wandered out onto the balcony and sat on the rooftop.

After a few minutes of talking and moping, I happened to look down.

A freshly killed mouse was laying next to my feet.

It had NOT been there when I sat down.

(Living or ethereal, cats sure do have weird thoughts on what constitutes a gift of love.)

Slán,

~Fionn

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