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"Well, I'll at least feed you and refill you water bowl before I leave .  How on earth is she even sleeping through all that?" I walk to the kitchen with Spyder right at my heels. He marches past me over to his food dish and sits there looking at me. The dish is full, almost to overflowing. The same with the water.

"What is your problem?" I look at him and shake my head. "If it's a litter box issue you're just going to have to wait until Kelley gets up; food and water are as far as my generosity goes with you. But whatever your deal is, keep it down, okay? She's trying to sleep.  I'll see you tomorrow."

I turn around to leave and as soon as I take a step toward the doorway, he starts with this low, ominous growl, the kind that dissolves into a high pitched whine just before the attack. I freeze.

"Look," I begin in my best psycho-cat calming voice as I slowly turn back into the kitchen.

That's when I see it.

Just barely, out of the corner of my eye as I look at him -

the bottle in the trash.

He's perfectly quiet watching me bend over to pick it up.

So quiet, I can almost hear the sound of all those red flags in the back of my head that have been frantically waving trying to get my attention.

So quiet, I can almost hear the sound of the ice shooting down my spine before I even read the label.

~

I lean my head back and look up at the ceiling.

I close my eyes for a minute.

Or maybe it's three.

Or maybe ten.

"It's funny, I remember every second of that night with laser-sharp, crystal clarity like it's been hard-wired into my brain;

from the time I got to her place until...

until I left the hospital -

every sound that damn cat made,

the way the walls glowed orange with the last of the daylight,

the coolness of her skin when I was trying to wake her,

the smell of her hair as I was holding her waiting for the ambulance,

the way my heart seized when I realized...

what she had done,

every word,

every breath,       

everything...

But,

I can't remember how I got from the kitchen back to the living room."

I look over at him shaking my head. "Funny isn't it?"

I pick up the bottle and refill my glass.

"Five years, and that's the only thing I don't remember."

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