“When I die, I want to come back as a cat,” my wife, Sue, always joked. “And if I could choose, I’d come here!” True, there was no better place to be a cat than our house. We had spoiled all of ours rotten. Boomie, our old Maine Coon, was the current king of the castle. Sue doted on him. It was a love he returned, especially on the days Sue wasn’t feeling her best. For the past decade, Sue had been battling cancer. Through chemo, radiation and surgeries, Boomie was there. He joined Sue on the sofa while she
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