We had "the talk" with the kids today. About Crawford most likely having died. About how much we loved him, how good a kitty he was, what a long life he had. We pull into the driveway, the tears gone, and
GUESS WHO IS SITTING AT THE DOOR, MEOWING HIS HEAD OFF???
Little bastard. Thin as a rail, hungrier than all get-out, but alive and indecisive as to purr or meow or eat.
The Teflon Kitty strikes again. Death WILL NOT STICK. Okay, my turn for cuddles is coming up. Thanks to everyone that sent me well wishes - I guess it worked.
*BEAMS*
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