Wednesday, August 14, 2013
bird outside, for climbing on top of me and purring your little head off, for letting me talk to you when there was no one else around to talk to, for putting up with my madness and my showtunes, and for making me feel better just by reaching out a paw to touch me.
Thank you for killing that real mouse in ‘09. Sorry I didn’t let you eat it.
I will miss following the stripes of your perfectly symmetrical tabby body. I will miss tickling you on that little white spot on your chest. . . the one I call your “caramel cream.” I wilI miss kissing that big black spot on your head five times in a row. I will miss the warm breath of your giant kitty yawns and the way you slept with one leg elevated. I will miss how happy I could make you with a few shrimp or some post-Thanksgiving turkey from Aunt Jenn. I’ll miss scooping you up in one arm to kiss your head when I said goodbye in the morning. And I’ll even miss your disapproving meows when I came home after abandoning you for the day, because the moment I scooped you back up--this time into both my arms, you immediately started to purr and all was forgiven.
I hope you can forgive me for my shortcomings; that our apartment wasn’t always as clean as it should be, or that I didn’t force you to eat better food so that maybe you wouldn’t have gotten sick. And that I wasn’t watching you close enough that horrible day in 2007 when you ate a piece of plastic that had to be removed surgically. How lucky I was to get six more years with you.
I hope you understand that this is what I believe you wanted--that you were in pain, and that it was not going to get better anytime soon, and that this is so you don’t have to be sad anymore.
I loved you with all my heart and I always will. Thank you for being my buddy. We made a great team and I am so very lucky to have been your Mom.