I don't mind the rat race but I could do with a little more cheese.

He's been gone for twenty-four hours. I haven't cried today but my vision blurred a bit when I read the receipt of yesterday's vet services. I think I'm kind of numb. It's weird knowing that he isn't upstairs on the bed or in the window or in my closet. We won't hear the pop of my closet door being opened and respond with "'Night, Bays!" He won't race me to the bathroom so that I'll turn on the faucet for him. He won't look at me expectantly for treats. He's just gone.