Through all the chaos, the one steady, the one constant has been my cats. I can always count on them to make me laugh. Everest still races me to my computer chair in the mornings. Taylor will expose her belly to me every time I pass her lying on the cat condo. She loves her belly rubs. Charlie will always tunnel into my pillow as I try to make the bed- and Guinevere in her strange crab-like way will headbump my ankles as I neatly tuck in the corners of our sheets.

Through all of this, the sudden departure of Panic, the disappearance of Mike, my cats have remained steady as a rock. If I bury my face in their fur they accept my need for comfort even though most of them were as wild as a March hare when they first arrived here. They don’t mind being a crying towel- they don’t judge me because my house is a wreck and they all run to the door at night when I get off of work.

I think, unless something else unpleasant happens, Mike is due to be discharged tomorrow. He will then be admitted to a nursing home for two weeks where they will administer the antibiotic four times a day. His youngest son will be here on the 30th and stay for a week before returning home to Anchorage.

Today is another day- and I hope I can greet it with as much exuberance as my cats show me daily.