We got a new cat a week after our very old one died because the apartment was so achingly empty without her. She'd basically raised our kids and was perfect in every way. She was ill for long enough at the end for us to take time telling her that, and grieve while caring for her and loving on her and waiting until the first available time for the home vet to come so she wouldn't have to go anywhere. And whisper it again into her fur as she took her last breath.

Afterward we looked around at all the things we had to make her comfortable and realized that while no one could ever replace her, there were other old cats sitting in shelter cages who needed love too.

We went to the city shelter and wound up with a cat who is disabled, can't jump and needed all her teeth extracted. So we paid for that, and brought her home.

Soon after, we somehow also ended up with a feisty stray kitten.

Miss Perfection's ashes are on a shelf, and I tear up when they catch my eye, but the misfits give us an outlet for all the love she taught us.