Amulet tattoos people for a living, deep in the heart of Somerset, where many people find it necessary to get a tattoo in order to make themselves more interesting (correct me if I'm wrong, Am). Am had a nice, huge cat which I never met - but I haven't met her yet either. I stand a much better chance of meeting Am though, because (last time I checked) she is still alive, and the cat sadly isn't. Am got really upset when her moggie died, quite understandably, and posted a big photo up of herself holding him/her in happier times, like a kind of memorial. This is how I now have a rough idea of what Amulet looks like, to the extent that I might recognise her if I bumped into her on the streets of her home town.
I say 'rough', because in the photo, she has dyed hair and - unlike dead cats - hair can be undyed, but most same-breed cats look the same to me, and I've never heard of an un-dead cat, if you leave Schrodinger out of the equation. Also, it's amazing how little information can be gleaned from a single photo, without the benefit of hindsight. This is why there is such a thing as police mug-shots, and life-models in art schools.
Even so, I fancy I can see a premonition of the grief to come when I look into Am's eyes in that photo.
During one drunken evening, her indoors suggested I should get a small dog of the type I favour (Yorkie, whippet, type thing) which would be small enough to humanely keep in our town flat, and exercise without having to drive to the Wiltshire Downs every day, and - for a while - I seriously considered it.
I started to imagine what I would call it, and had a perfect image in my mind of what the little fellow would look like, once he had grown up to his full 11 inches in height. After a few more glasses of wine, it was almost settled that I would get this little mut who - I was sure - was patiently waiting in the Claverton Dog and Cat Home for me to take him back to our loving environment. Then I had a couple more glasses of wine.
After a while, her indoors asked when I was going up there to find him and bring him home. Tears welled up in my eyes as I said it could not be, and we must never have a dog. Understandably, she asked why not, all of a sudden? I replied - choking with emotion in a high pitched, squeaky voice:
"Because I couldn't stand it if anything happened to him!"
My imaginary dog is still waiting for me up at the Dog's home ....