My cat has lived a long life, spending almost 22 years with me. In the end, he began to get sick often, and only thanks to constant care and treatment, I was able to extend his life a little more. Despite my efforts and the professional help of veterinarians, age took its toll and after 22 years I lost my friend.
I buried the cat and was very worried about his departure. Not all of my friends understood my reaction, with those who believed that the animal is not worth crying, I had a big fight. Many simply did not understand why I was burying a cat the way people are buried and thought that this was at least wrong.
I can’t find an explanation, but for exactly 40 days I didn’t meet a single cat in the yard. Of course, even before that we didn’t have so many of them, but still we occasionally came across in the yard.
I didn’t see cats for 40 days, and the very next day after this period, returning from work, I heard a quiet squeak. The sound was coming from the garbage cans, and I went to see who was crying. Near the garbage sat a kitten, small and weak, with one swollen eye. Although outwardly the baby did not look at all like my deceased pet, I could not leave him on the street.
Now the kitten lives in my house. For a long time he could not get used to the tray, but now he has completely mastered it and has become a new member of our family.