Oh, I have a similar story from my (unfortunately late) void:
Had a big chunk of pork, which I trimmed for the BBQ. All the cuttings (mostly fat) I put in a pad to render (?) the delicious lard. Somehow I forgot to put a lid on the pan while it cooled down, and the whole thing got forgotten in the mess the kitchen was after a nice Barbie and beers with friends. Next morning I woke up, thought “oh crap, the lard”. Went downstairs, first susicious thing: cat nowhere to be seen. Pan on the stove was completely clean. As in straight from the dishwasher clean. The I saw the cat lolling around on the sofa, barely awake, and almost unresponsive. Even shaking his morning treats did not prompt him to come into the kitchen (which usually was the ritual). And then it dawned on me: the little rascal slurped about a whole pound of pork lard during the night from the pan. Did not eat for two days straight, but seemed happy as a clam.
Wherever he is now, I hope he gets all the lard he wants.
I feel that. My dad sold my childhood home after my mother’s passing and moved out a few years ago. I had not lived there for 25 years or so, but three of my cats were buried in the yard because I lived in rentals during that time. The last walkthrough through the house was of course emotional, but strolling through the yard past the trees where I put the little furballs to rest really hit me.