From nursing mothers to senior catizens, you see it all as a foster carer
Nearly three years ago my wife and I had to move from New York – where we met, where I had lived for almost eight years, and where we had made a home – back to my home town of Melbourne. We missed (and continue to miss) many things about New York: our friends, our favourite bar, our neighbourhood, the fact that one can actually make a living there as a writer.
But most of all, we missed our cat, who stayed in NYC with a friend. It’s hard to say why, exactly – she’s a singular creature. She used to amuse herself by trying to trip my wife during the night, as she navigated the weird spiral staircase in our Brooklyn apartment – but we missed her nonetheless.
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