I had a cat for almost 20 years, and sometimes I barely realized it, but when she passed away on Pearl Harbor Day 2 weeks ago I felt her presence in my life so acutely. I swear I heard her jump off the bed in the upstairs bedroom, as usual, to come greet Ella (dog) and me when we returned from our morning Lincoln Park walk this past weekend. And I keep thinking she is here, in her familiar napping spots, mistaken by a pillow. I admit I watched her quite closely the past few months, making sure she was doing alright as her age crept up to incredulity. We miss our little rascal, she had the life of a wild cat the 1st 7 years and a retiree since moving to the townhouse by the Puget Sound.