I suppose I should write this down now, as ten months is a short time to know a small animal, and the memories won’t get any clearer.

Possum’s favorite toy was a stuffed squirrel, which she began playing with when it was the same size as she. We buried it with her.

Viv took some pictures of me holding her corpse and bawling. A bit later, after we’d figured out where to bury her, her brother George came up and began sniffing her corpse, clearly totally freaked out. I took pictures and a short movie of that.

When she was alive, one of her favorite activities was to seize my head from behind in both paws and chew on my hair.

She is the only cat I have had out of five prior who was a determined inside-the-bed cat. Her favorite place was right in between Viv and I; the more it seemed like we would squish her the louder she would purr.

Of her biological cat family, George and Lark remain alive and well. Possum is the only one of the three who adopted the announcing and conversational meow, and I was looking forward to seeing where it went as she got older. Sadly, I do not think I have a recording of her call, but it was rather demanding, if friendly and cheerful.

Possum daily insisted on eating coffeebeans as I set up the coffee each night. Should I fail the task, I was clearly informed.

Possum’s demeanor was what I would have to call cheerful, and it is this that endeared her to me. My demeanor is not cheerful, and both Lark and Rocket have undergone life experiences that have left them wary, if loving, companions.

I don’t recall if Possum or George was born first. I’m not sure if we know.

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Finally, today, May 22, is the one year anniversary of Lark entering our family.