Three years ago, we were celebrating your 17th birthday. At least I was celebrating. You were probably off napping someplace.
I had no idea what was to come. I had no clue that in four months, you would be gone. It hardly seems real that in the span of 6 days, you got sick and wasted away before my eyes.
I still miss you. I think about you every day. You weren’t perfect, but you were perfect for me. Your constant companionship, your loyal love, and your quiet presence got me through some hard days. Your soft little snore was a comfort to me in the middle of the night.
You were sometimes grumpy, sometimes feisty, but never dull. I knew you’d be waiting for me when I got home from a long day of work.
I could never replace you, but I got rescued by a little tortie kitten so that all the love I had for you could have someplace to go. She’s grown up into a gentle, laidback cat who loves her some belly rubs.
She’s like you in some ways, but in other ways the total opposite of you. I think you would have grown to like her.
I still visit your final resting place from time to time and talk with you. I never stay very long, but I always tell you that I still love you and still miss you. I always thank you for all the love and how you held on for as long as you could to be with me.
I know part of me thought you’d live forever– or at least until 30, but I can look back with gratitude for 17 wonderful years. I’d go back and do every single day of it again if I could, even those devastating last days.
Thanks again for all the love. You will always be my little baby.