On May 31st my beautiful, amazing little cat Taro was found dead outside of my apartment building. It's a long story and each time I go through the details I relive the horror of that sunny and seemingly OK May morning. It was the worst thing I have ever seen (and you may laugh because it's not as if I've lived through a roadside bomb in a warzone) and the feeling was like repeated punches to my chest. I couldn't breath but somehow I was able to scream so loud that I had a sore throat for a few days afterwards. My downstairs neighbour helped me because I was a useless screaming wreck in pyjamas with sleep still in her eyes. Thank goodness for my wonderful neighbour I wouldn't have been able to get Taro into a box without her. The rest of that horrible day consisted of my brother and I digging a grave for Taro. We had to break up layers of ancient shale and the afternoon sun beat down on us hard but we got there in the end.
So I haven't updated this blog since then. I have eaten at many great places and taken photos at least half of them but as you can well understand each time I even think about this blog I think about Taro and my heart breaks. However, I am going to continue this blog because I have to. I can't crumble in defeat everytime something bad happens to me.