Happy birthday, sweet girl.

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Today my cat Lucy — my first cat, my first love, the first creature who’s ever trusted and relied on me and me alone (even before I could manage the same) — turns five. I know how loopy and laughable pet birthdays can sound, but is it more meaningless an occasion than a birthday party for a one-year-old human who’s just as oblivious?  For me it’s a tradition that recalls fuzzy memories of sticking candles in cans of tuna fish for my sweet, grumpy Gumball.  I’m thankful for every one of the eighteen August 25s she spent with us, and. . . keep going