For 17 years, from my 30 to my 47, this Moo was my best girl. She did all the cat things. She sat on my keyboard, my stack of work papers, my books. She was my first morning moment, nattering hello and feed me now. She loved to climb under blankets and act as if she’d arrived in a new land. She brought me mice, gifts I never fully appreciated. My favorite thing of all was when she leaned herself in, resting her forehead on me. For 17 years, she was a thrumming peace beside me. I will miss her.