Just one more hug
I dreamt about Astin last night: my little furless cat who died in 2007, one night completely out of the blue and in less than 2 minutes.
I think I am what is called ‘over’ his death: it still (and probably always will) twists my heart with sadness and pointlessness, if I think about it too much I will cry, but on a day to day basis I function normally and am able to be happy and enjoy the little things in my life as much as possible.
In my dream, we were having a cuddle. And it was all there: the warmth of his little skin folds, his smell, him putting his face in my face and sniffing my eyelashes. I felt ganged up on by my memories when I woke up, because ‘over’ his death or not, I would kind of kill right now for just one more hug with him.
And then have to change my clothes because little naked cats, they sweat and it leaves marks all over you (it does!).
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