like a band-aid

I gave up the cat tonight. The cat is this furry little thing I babysat at my place for two months. A friend needed to unload her for a minute do to housing issues, and I decided why the hell not. Ever since the "Grad School" internship where I was constantly around animals, I felt this overwhelming need to own a cat. Having decided to move to London, ownership of an animal seemed inappropriate and down right selfish. Only other pet keepers will understand the need to have an animal in one's life, but here I was wanting a cat and unable to have one. Then WHAM, an opportunity. I get to have a cat live with me for two months - food, cat litter and the lot paid for. She just had to hang out with me. I was game. Seemed poetically appropriate for these moments of mine in between moving far away from here.

Tonight was the last night. My friend and I went out to dinner. Talked and shared and carried on layers of conversation. In the back of my mind was this cat leaving. She came back to my place, we packed up the cat's thing and she left - my friend and felion.

How do I feel? Sad. I hide it behind the relief that I no longer have to clean up cat hair. Let's face it - fur is hell to clean up. But, in the end, I will miss that cat who shared two months of my life. She reminded me that nothing is as permenant as this self...and this self is already missing a cat I babysat for two months.