After our beloved Holly died (and you could have taken me and hubby to the lunatic asylum and they would have admitted us both after that nightmare) there was a lovely fat old Tuxedo that came around a few times.
It was strange, we’d never seen him before and he would go and sit on this certain loveseat we had in our yard, where Holly used to like to sit.
It was like he was some grand emissary from the world of cats who came to comfort us. Which he did, very much in fact.
Ceiling Cat sent him.