Holding it Against Your Bones

Saying goodbye for good sucks.

Yesterday, I held my long-cherished cat Fletch as she died. She was a big girl, like a gravity blanket, and she felt warm and soft and present for many minutes after she left.

“Is she really dead? She doesn’t feel dead,” I kept asking my husband.

“Yes, honey, she’s gone.”

While Fletch and I had been close since the afternoon we adopted her 13 years ago, we…