Two weeks ago our barn cat Taylor died-I found him by the side of the house. Our guess is that he had been poisoned as there were no signs of injury. After bawling my eyes out digging his grave beside the stand of pine trees, I spent the rest of the afternoon contemplating the meaning of life, without coming to any hard conclusions.
I know barn cats don't live as long as their indoor counterparts, but it was still tough losing the little guy-we hadn't been with us a year yet. Our routines felt out of sync for a few days, but we have started to adjust to not having our grey tiger striped kitty being around.
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