Irving Townsend

We who choose to surround ourselves_x000D_ with lives even more temporary than our_x000D_ own, live within a fragile circle;_x000D_ easily and often breached._x000D_ Unable to accept its awful gaps,_x000D_ we would still live no other way._x000D_ We cherish memory as the only_x000D_ certain immortality, never fully_x000D_ understanding the necessary plan.

Another cat? Perhaps. For love there is also a season; its seeds must be resown. But a family cat is not replaceable like a wornout coat or a set of tires. Each new kitten becomes its own cat, and none is repeated. I am four cats old, measuring out my life in friends that have succeeded but not replaced one another.