People blunder through in early grief. “I know just how you feel,” they say, when you’ve lost a human being. “I lost my pet.” At the time, I found it breathtakingly offensive. But the day Knightley died, the grief was off the charts. The aftershocks turned out to be nowhere near as powerful as losing Cam; the bounce-back was light years faster. But that initial passing devastated me in a way I hadn’t anticipated.
