My Gran went to the bridge today. She was 99 and had been very frail for a very long time.
She loved cats, when I was a kid she had a huge black cat called JohnWilly who was the terror of the neighbourhood, but he so loved her
Ten minutes after I got the news, I had four cats all trying to get on my knee, an hour later I had three neighbours cats in my kitchen and a rare cuddly encounter with Pursley (who doesn't "do" cuddles). They just seem to know, don't they?
So, for anyone whose cat has departed for the bridge, fear not, my Gran (Elsa) is there and sharing out the cuddles. The big, black norty ones might get a bit of extra loving.
It's helped me to write this, I hope you don't mind.