While I know others are struggling through their troubles this Christmas, we are having our own issues with the loss of our Moses. We aren't moping around the house crying all day and night, but there is a heaviness about the place. I went into the kids' room last night to help Simon settle himself. I told him to face the wall so he could see Moses (Tim had taped a picture of the cat up above each bed). I was really looking for something for Simon to focus on so he would stop talking to Chas and Mia and go to sleep. He burst into tears, and said he prayed to God that he wished Moses was still alive. And he didn't even get to see Moses; he really wanted to see him Friday night after we discovered him. Simon is such a sweet soul. I remember once he stood in the kitchen and cried because Moses was in the backyard crying to come inside and I didn't immediately go open the door for him. 'Mosey's my best friend and you're leaving him out there!' I think the deadbolt was on, the boys couldn't open the door on their own. Simon used to get down on the floor and show Moses pictures he had drawn, and he was always first to volunteer to fill Moses' food bowl. When Simon asked to see Moses, I was going to let him, but Tim didn't think it would be a good idea. I thought it wouldn't really hurt but might offer Simon some closure. It's done now, Moses is in the ground with dahlia bulbs over top awaiting the warm Spring. We set a small amount of the same bulbs to the side, we'll put them in the ground at the new place. We have talked with the kids about getting another cat when we get to the new place in Virginia. We'll have to see.
In the meantime, Nigel is doing his best to fill the space. His coat is getting so long that it is falling to the sides naturally leaving a part on his back. At the part, you can see the difference between the undercoat, soft and light, and the overcoat now, coarse and peppery. The fur on his head, though, still makes an Einstein-ian explosion, which is quite adorable. We also weighed him at the PetSmart and it appears he has gained some weight since coming home in September. He likes to bury his treats lately. He rarely eats them, but instead, wanders the house whimpering and searching. So far he has buried treats in the couch cushions and in baskets of toys. And if he cons me into letting him outside (sometimes you can't see beneath the beard if he has something in his mouth,) he makes a mess of his beard as he noses the dirt over to fill the hole. Nigel is a happy and mostly balanced member of our family.