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09 February 2005 - 14:17

and she coos to him still

BB sits on the floor, weeping softly while she holds a towel-wrapped bundle on her lap. She holds it close to her, rocking it back and forth, back and forth.
Yang sits at the computer, playing games. He doesn't say anything to the others, just sits and pounds away at the keyboard as necessary, his long hair falling over his face.
Da Ninja leans back against the wall, his eyes closed. His lips move rapidly, he is muttering the lyrics to 'Kill You' by Slim Shady under his breath. In memory of our cat, man.
Svl sits still at one of the chairs, mending some of our pants. He doesn't say anything either, just keeps his head down to his work. I don't even know why we bother with those pants. I doubt they even fit us anymore.
Gis and Jack are tired and sleepy; we feel drained. They sigh and lean against the fuzzy orange pillow and the red beanbag, trying in vain to find rest.
None of us are hungry, though we haven't eaten anything all day. Moco comtemplates what we can make ourself for breakfast anyway. I mean, we can't starve ourself, you know.
Polla sighs as she looks at BB and wants to cry. Of all the animals, she didn't really have a problem with Jiquiro. I think he was the only one of all our pets that all of us could agree on. Even Piojo liked Huevo. As much as he could like anything, I suppose. So even Polla misses the damn cat.
Dud once told us that of all our animals, Jiquirito was the one who loved us the most. He understood shit that other people don't, because he went through it with me, with all of us. He understood death, and it's just so ironic that after surviving so much he would crumble like this. But Prophet said it had to happen. And better for him to go before we do, for he didn't have to suffer anymore by losing us, too. Suffer the humans instead.
Who's left to mention? Grizzly? Right, that's me. I sit here, looking out at everyone, feeling their misery because it's my pain, too. Piojo's given up trying to console BB or take her pain away. She won't have it, because she says it's all part of loving our cat, this pain. And she clutches his bloody paw in her hand, and remembers how he used to grip back, wrapping his claws softly around our thumb. Now his paw is cold, and it won't move. Not ever again.

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