Isabella and Sean came and got Gego yesterday . . . as soon as they came into my apartment, he meowed and then ran under my bed and hid. He didn’t want to leave! Isabella and Sean hung around and we all talked for an hour, by which point he had still not come out . . . so I had to lift up my mattress and grab him from beneath my bed. When I pulled him out, he clung to my chest. Sean took these pictures of young Gego and me before I sadly relinquished him to his mother’s open arms. Once inside his carrier, we unzipped the top and I pet him and gave him a kiss on the head. I said, “Goodbye, my sweet baby child. I love you.” The little family descended the stairs and were gone.

I have watched Gego four or five times now, and every time he leaves I feel empty as hell again. I like having the little dude around. It feels like hanging out with your little brother. This is also the first time in my entire life I haven’t had a cat of my own . . . a week of watching Gego always reminds me that having a cat in my house is essential to my not going completely insane. I have to be around them! I don’t know, it gives me purpose. It forces me to take care of myself so that I am in good enough shape to take care of them. Otherwise I just end up turning into the redundant subterranean thing I am now.