A bit of some very sad stuff here. I do not know exactly when, or exactly how, but either way, Macduff, our last cat, died sometime around the beginning of this month. He had been gone for a few days by June 3rd, but that didn't really bother us; he often went out for days at a time, such was his nature. Well, there happened to be a.....particular death scent....and an accumulation of Buzzards and Red-tailed hawks along our little dirt road...There wasn't much of a carcass left, but the fur was the exact same shade of brownish black. There wasn't enough left to bury. I think he would be happier, though, not being buried. He hated drastic changes and confinement, like being trapped in dirt. He was in one of his favorite places (The woods between my grandma's house and mine) and he was doing something he loved to do, (Walking; moving) and he was being one of his favorite things (free) when he died.
RIP Macduff. I will miss you, even if you don't believe me.
