Finally, you'll be able to talk about the happier times you shared with your lost one, and you'll find yourself in the unusual situation of being able to laugh through your tears, just when you thought you'd never laugh again. By then you may be willing to think about adopting a new cat, to live those happy times again. I firmly believe the cat you are mourning wants it that way.

I'm not suggesting that you drive directly from the veterinary clinic to your local shelter to pick up a new cat.

You need and deserve some time for grief. Crying helps. When I lost my beloved Shannon in July of 2001, I cried for days, often at little things, like seeing his familiar face on my computer desktop, where it still resides, years later. But think about using the tools I've given you on page one of this article, and when you find yourself smiling more and crying less,you'll know when it's time to move on.

I've made the "never replace him" statement many times. But, over the years I've come to learn that although it is true that you can never replace a cat you've loved and lost, you can fill that empty void in your home and your heart. In my opinion, adopting another kitty from a shelter or an animal rescue group is the finest memorial you can possibly make to the one you've lost. Many of our forum members (myself included) are convinced that a departed cat often plays a large role in sending a new kitty around as an "adoption volunteer." Sometimes when we've least expected it, a stray cat shows up on our doorstep, or we find our car traveling as if on autopilot in the direction of the local shelter or adoption day event in a pet store.

In the case of Shannon, I knew that I couldn't survive without another Golden Boy in my life. It took eight months, but I found my Jaspurr and Joey, and I swear Shannon led me to them.

I look at it this way: If I had preceded my husband to The Rainbow Bridge, I'd sure want him to marry again. Naturally, I'd hope he'd miss me for awhile, but if he chose to never re-marry, I'd take it as an insult to the memory of our marriage. I mean, I'd hope he had such a good time with our connection that he'd want to repeat the experience with someone else, and preferably sooner, rather than later. Of course, he couldn't replace me, but he could replace the relationship with a new and different one with someone else.

I've come to feel the same way about replacing a cat; it is a way of keeping his or her memory alive every day, in the form of a new furry being to enrich my home and fill the void that needs filling. What better way to honor him than to save the life of another cat? I've had Jaspurr and Joey for over twelve years now, and not a day goes by that I don't look at them and thank my Shannon for sending them to me.

Think about it...