It's Only A Cat

15 years ago my daughter dropped off two kittens at my house; my "grandchildren" she called them laughingly.  On a stormy night while I was at work, the last of them died in her sleep last night.

I did the necessary on a rainy Tuesday midnight and now I sit here listening to Zara Larsson while pondering the severing of my final illusion of a connection with my oldest child and her actual children.

I will have no more.