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Jaime really does give my life purpose.

She needs me.  She’s an older cat, I think, at least 4, maybe 5.  She has a sensitive tummy, so needs special soft food from Science Diet.

But she needs me, and I need to be needed, apparently.  My suicidal impulses are nil lately, because to kill myself would mean to  kill  her, and I won’t do that.

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