(Not single-page) A writer recalls the disappearance of her adopted cat, and links the event to other experiences of loss in her life.
Six months after Gattino disappeared my husband and I were sitting in a restaurant having dinner with some people he had recently met, including an intellectual writer we both admired. The writer had considered buying the house we were living in and he wanted to know how we liked it. I said it was nice but it had been partly spoiled for me by the loss of our cat. I told him the story and he said, ‘Oh, that was your trauma, was it?’
“I said yes. Yes, it was a trauma.
“You could say he was unkind. You could say I was silly. You could say he was priggish. You could say I was weak.