Dear Boomer,

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Dear Boomer,

I know you are looking down on us from your comfy, down-filled bed in heaven in disbelief.  And shock.  And horror.  You might even be baring your teeth, causing the angels to look around in dismay.

Let me ‘splain…

You see, Boomer, since you left us, we’ve been lonely.  Now don’t get me wrong.  This cute little bundle of furry adorable-ness is NOT a replacement as you, O sainted pup, are irreplaceable.  Everybody acknowledges that so smooth down your hackles and listen to me.  Good boy.  And, for the record, I wanted no new pet.  But, the children…they could not be persuaded.  They took your death very hard  – your little girl had a good cry over you just the other night, filling her waste basket with tissues.  We needed something to distract us from the pain.  Call it an ice cream cone to make a boo-boo feel better.  The ice cream’s name is Alyss.

Because we didn’t have to foresight to clone you (and besides, that’s still just a little bit icky to my way of thinking), we did think about getting a puppy.  In fact, because we are collectively mentally unbalanced, we are still considering getting a puppy in addition to the ball of fluff we just acquired.  However, puppies (you were the exception) are hard work.  They require full-on, hands on, 24/7 attention at least at the outset.  Kittens, whatever else you may think about them, are slightly more self-sufficient.  As in, I haven’t had to walk her once.  Yes, I know I could use the exercise.  Don’t judge.

Alyss has been with us for almost 48 hours.  She has already found a sanctuary under our bed (trust me, she won’t be allowed on it just as you weren’t) and she is quite happy to hang out there all day.  She is very, very shy because, like you, she was living on the streets from the time she was born and she has little or no experience with people.  If you recall, dear one, I used to call you “Cat-Dog” because sometimes you could be quite aloof.

I am as shocked as anyone that we are now cat owners.  I never would’ve thought it…your “Dad” has absolutely no idea how to treat a cat.  He pats her on the head as if she were a dog; I’m sure she has a headache.  Last night, he thoroughly pissed her off by carefully rubbing her fur the wrong way.  He was rewarded with a look of pure disdain.

She will test us.  She will make us sneeze.  She will trip us gleefully on the stairs.  But, she will also ease our pain.  We saved her life and surely you can forgive us for that reason alone.  So, try not to be angry with us Boomer.  There isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t remember you and miss you.  Call us crazy if you must.  It’s ok – I do.

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