i had a cat named puck. he was 18 pounds of glorious pixi-bob love. he had the most impressive vocabulary i've ever heard in a cat (although karma is a close second) and he was the love of my kitty zeppo's life. they were brothers and best friends. when puck passed a few years ago it tore me apart. zeppo was lost and wandered the house looking for his friend. it broke my (and my ex-husband's) heart/s.
occasionally, puck shows up in my dreams. last night he was there. it's always the same dream: i'm doing normal, every day stuff, and he stops by to tell me he's doing all right. we talk, i tell him i miss him, and he reassures me that he's fine and he's still looking out for us. i think he just needs to communicate with us every now and then. it's comforting. i feel like i haven't lost him at all. or at least not as much as it felt like i had.
i told zeppo what puck said. he seemed happy to hear puck was doing all right. and then we curled up and went back to sleep, a little happier than we were before.