You’re Such a Good Boy

The house is a little too quiet, the floors a little too clean. I find my morning routine has little gaps in it now without you here. There are a million little things that after 19 years just became part of my day. They are all gone, little grey kitty shaped holes in my life. No one to scratch insanely at my bedroom door when I sleep late making you wait for breakfast. No one pawing at my desk chair begging me to ignore work to pet you. No one laying under my desk just to be close. No one following me around the house meowing to remind me of your existence, like I could ever forget. No one thundering down the stairs making far to much noise for a little 10 pound being. No one climbing up my chest because my lap simply was not close enough. No one singing a loud kitty song in the dark of night as you prowled around “hunting” your favorite chipmunk stuffy. I could make a list that would be a mile long of all the little quirks and traits that made you so uniquely you, my little furry buddy but, my heart simply can’t take it right now. For 18 years you were a constant in my day, in my life. College, dating, marriage, divorce, cancer, countless homes, moving across the country multiple times and even moving over seas, you where there. A fat grey furry profusely shedding bundle of unconditional love, letting me cry into your fur when I was sad and comforting me when I was anxious. That’s gone now and my heart is going to need time to not feel broken.

I knew it was time, you were tired and your little body just worn out from almost two decades of life. I didn’t sleep the last night you were here. I stayed awake petting you as you were curled up into my side, your head on my shoulder, not wanting to miss what I knew in my heart was your last night with me. The next day when the doctor asked if I wanted to be there when you left I said yes, because even if it was going to hurt to watch, I couldn’t let you be with strangers in your last moments here. I needed to make sure the last thing you heard was, “You’re such a good boy. You are such a good boy.”

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.