It feels like this is the best place to start.
I am going to give the raw version of events exactly as I remember so that you guys will have the best understanding of my feelings.
At around 8 pm on Saturday the 9th May 2020, my partner arrived home from work. If this was a routine day, 8 paws would have trotted in with him, but there was only Milo.
It is unusual for Nando to stay outside for too long. She loves spending time in our garden, keeping the company of the sun and the breeze. But she loves being at home more. Every time the front door opens, Nando sees it as her cue to come inside; even if she has only been out for a few minutes. She is a funny cat, sometimes we joke that she thinks she is a human. Anything on two legs she loves unconditionally until she is given a reason not to. Anything on four, she hates until she learns to tolerate them.
We called her but she didn’t come. Also odd. Nando’s nickname is Nanna. It arose because it is not too far off Nando, and also because another long-running Nando joke is that she acts like a grandma. Her favourite hobby is sleeping somewhere warm; preferably on someone’s lap. She is constantly keeping the other cats in check. And she looks at everyone like they are her grandchildren – sometimes her eyes say they want to tell us off, and other times they say she loves us.
Nanna loves to hear her name being called, she comes trotting. It’s a sound that means the attention will be solely on her, and that she will get some strokes and loving; her favourite things.
It was a beautiful warm evening so it was easy to put our concerns to the back of our minds. She must be enjoying herself too much to pay attention to us.
The clock continued. 10 o’clock arrived. It was accompanied by the sound of crying out in the darkness close to the house. This marked the start.
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