You think you know how it will feel when a father dies. Even when it is expected, it isn't. Even when he wasn't really there, his absence is something else entirely. Grief comes, not like waves, but like a flood in the middle of a desert. It spills into the spaces he left behind-his empty chair, his unfinished debts, the unanswered questions that come knocking. "Did your father have another family?" "What did he owe?" "And who is waiting to collect?" But while loss unravels everything, the cats remain.They move through the house, indifferent to grief, unbothered by the past.They break things and somehow fix them in the same breath.They watch, knowing more than they should, as if they've seen it all before.And maybe they have, seen it all before, that is. Because when fathers disappear, when secrets surface, when nothing makes sense anymore-CATS ARE THE ONLY CONSTANT This is a story of loss, love, absurdity, and the quiet, undeniable truth that no matter how broken life becomes, a life is nothing without its cats.
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