When I noted the death of our female cat Stella in a recent post, I never suspected that I would be reporting less than two week later that her brother Walter would be following her so soon. What we thought was the inevitable outcome of Stella's liver problems turned out to be something else, either a contagious disease or something that both cats ingested somewhere in the apartment. And sometime around 2-3 a.m. Friday, Walter died, too. I buried him next to his sister in one of his favorite cardboard boxes, with an old sweater of Margo's and a down vest of mine, both of which he had annexed for himself. Suddenly the apartment is uncomfortably quiet, especially at night, and I am dreading Monday when I will find myself here alone for the first time in over seven years.