Many thanks to all of you who sent your kind wishes. And to those who asked, AJ does not seem to be seriously affected by the death of Mr. Stein (Max), which I�m sure would not be the case had it been Mrs. Stein instead. I sat AJ down yesterday morning to tell him what happened. He wanted to know where Max went and I told him we buried him in the garden. He laughed, �that�s silly, Mommy.� He knows what death means, but he doesn�t know what it means. Later he asked when Max would be coming back. �He�s not coming back, but I�ll show you the place where we buried him.� We looked together. �Mommy, I think Henrietta needed extra patting because, she might be lonely.� Max was not such a factor in AJ�s life; he was too skittish for AJ�s sudden movements, so he tended to make himself scarce when AJ was around.

Mrs. Stein seems a little lost. She�s been sleeping more than usual and has been wandering around meowing more than usual. But she�s a pretty resilient creature, so I�m sure she�ll recover.

AJ and I went to the pet store for supplies and a visit to the fish this morning. A local shelter had set up a series of cages in the middle of the store for a special �adopt-a-cat� day. AJ was very excited. �Look, Mommy, that one looks like Max.� It did, too. AJ squatted down to peer into the cage, hoping to play with the cat who was peering back at him suspiciously. There was a kitten in the cage too, asleep. The volunteer behind us said that the one that looked like Max was the kitten�s mother and that someone had just adopted them both, so they were going to get to stay together. We watched a little longer and then headed home. But somehow, that short moment felt cathartic somehow. After I put AJ down for his nap, I packed up Max�s food and water dishes.

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