Lately I’ve been buying my T-shirts on sale and in bulk. All the ones I own have stains on them.
This is not entirely unusual since I’m a large-breasted woman who clumsily consumes food. I also have terrible luck; ask me about the ketchup incident some time. Most of these stains disappear or fade over time.
The difficult-to-remove stains come from my youngest cat, Sera. As many of you know, our wee girl is dying of cancer. The tumor on her breast has grown so massive that it occasionally splits open and secretes a clear or bloody fluid. We’ve placed puppy-training pads throughout the house — on floors, pillows, couches — to make her comfortable and to keep the tumor from staining everything, but I rarely have one handy when she’s in need of some snuggling. So I carefully pick her up, place her on my pillowy rack and let her sleep for as long as she wants.
When Sera is ready to get down, she leaves both a stain and a little heartbreak in her wake.
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