She was my link to myself in my 20s. Before infertility, before wrong career paths, before depression. I used to imagine getting home to her and cuddling her when things were really bad, and it got me through. She used to sleep on my pillow, in a nest she made out of my hair, so I couldn't roll over all night. She cuddled like a teddy bear up against my shoulder, holding on tight. Face buried in my neck, snuffley purr that went on and on. I loved her. My little friend.