Mr Small woke us around 4am for a cuddle. After I had tucked him back into his bed I recall distinctly having one of "those moments." I call them reminder moments. In my case they fulfil two purposes. One part reminds me how lucky and happy I am, the other part of it is to remember that feeling because something is about to happen.
I dismissed it as I always try to do. One of the problems with being an over anxious person, is there is a fine line to tread between being paranoid and having a premonition.
When the phone rings before I've even had time to get out of bed it is nearly always bad news.
And so it was this morning.
It was our sweet neighbour phoning to let us know that our beloved cat Lily was lying on the side of the road a few doors down. She had been hit and killed by a car.
Husband and I shot down to her, leaving our children at home with firm instructions to stay inside.
I scooped up her broken, still warm little body and carried her home.
I've never thought of myself as much of an animal person but our two cats, at only 9 months old found their way into our hearts.
So today isn't the day that I had planned.
My husband spent this morning digging Lily a grave, as I fielded questions from the offspring. These  ranged from wanting to know:  "What colour the car was that killed Lily, mum?"
through to : "Will God will scoop her out of the ground and take her to heaven?"
There have been many, many tears shed in at Casa de Chaos this morning. Every time I think I'm feeling better I flashback to seeing her lying broken on the side of the road. The kids are doing okay, but they (thankfully) don't really understand it all.
She may have been "just a cat" but she was part of our family.
It's just not the same here today.