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Why I am trying to move to Cleveland

I can't sleep and my shoulder hurts, so I am going to write about Lady.

Lady was a cat. She had long grey hair and front legs that were too short for her body, so she marched with stiff front legs instead of walking. She was not that effective a cat; she had trouble grooming her rear half, so it got tangled and had to be shaved every so often. She wasn't always that nice, either. She hissed and snapped and bit sometimes. She swatted her brother cats Willie and Pooch when they annoyed her.

But I liked her a lot. She loved to be petted, and had a lovely purr. When I visited her owners H and B she would march up to me and wait for me to stroke her. Then she would purr until she had enough, at which point she would hiss or snap at my hand to let me know.

Unfortunately H and B got sick, and B moved out. H did not like Lady so much, and she couldn't handle Lady all by herself. On several occasions H hinted that I adopt Lady, but I refused -- I did not want to be responsible, and I was frightened that I would hurt Lady, and my apartment did not allow pets.

Eventually Lady got to be too much of a handful, and she was given to a cat lady. The cat lady adopted Lady and put Lady in a home with the dozens of other cats she had adopted. Then Lady got a disease from one of her new housemates and died.

I still miss Lady, and wish I had not let her down. A fat lot of good that does now.

I'm sorry, Lady. Rest in peace, and thank you for your friendship. You were not an easy cat, but you were a good cat.

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