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Last night, around 8 p.m., I sat on my couch to read a book. My beautiful Maine Coon Bijou soon jumped onto the couch to snuggle next to me as I read. When I got up about midnight to hit the hay, I was careful not to wake her as I got up, and headed for bed.

This morning, I found her still on the couch in the exact same position. I instantly knew that she was dead. My brain kept looping over and over again, "What? She's dead???" and I went into shock. She'd had a perfectly normal day Friday, and was even eating when I started reading the book. There was no sign of illness and she'd just had a vet checkup 3 weeks ago. The vet said she looked just fine. I wonder what he'll say when I bring her in Monday for a post mortem.

I cannot stop crying. I feel absolutely devastated. It's like part of my heart was ripped out. My little rescue cat Zizu keeps looking for her pal, sniffing the couch, the desk, and other favorite haunts of Bijou. I am going to put out feelers for a new tortie and white Maine Coon kitten, because it will take a while to find a kitten of that color and experience has taught me that the only way to get past the loss of a pet is to get a new little love. Not a replacement, but a new little baby cat to love for its own sake.