Khemut touched the bare space above her eye and sighed deeply. Shaving one's eyebrows was a sign of respect, a symbol of mourning...but it did leave one looking slightly ridiculous.
She knew she was only thinking of these petty things to distract herself. It wasn't right to think such selfish vain thoughts, not when a sacred animal had died, but it was hard for her to face the truth. More than just a hunting companion, more even than a heavenly being, it had been her friend and pet and...and…
Her eyes began to blur with tears.
Her husband put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Nekhet, darling, its in a better place, drinking milk at the feet of Bastet."
She nodded and dried her eyes, trying not to smear the kohl she had so carefully applied earlier.
They walked down the street to their modest family tomb, swapping memories of their beloved pet.
"Whenever we were near the river, the krokoroks would never dare approach, do you remember?"
"One time, it practically took on a full grown hippodown! By the gods, I was terrified!"
"Never mean or violent, though."
"Never. Sweet and gentle. Powerful, but gentle. Not like the kitten it had, now that was a nasty bit of work."
"I know, such a shame…"
They fell silent, having reached the tomb- a small and modest affair, but one they were grateful to have. Among the caskets and possessions of their ancestors stood a new sarcophagus, shinier, newer...and much much smaller, a tiny pink sculpture of a cats head on top. Khemut began to cry again and her husband held her tight, murmuring words of comfort.
Cats, miu, are sacred to all Egyptians, but their miu had truly been one of a kind.