A Farewell (Patreon)

Yesterday, I had to say goodbye to a soul that I shared nearly 19 years of my life with. The sweetest little 'Oreo' I've ever known.

Socks was my little alarm clock, and the loudest bit of 'happy' that a person could imagine. She would sit with me when I was stressed to the point of barely being able to function. She sat with me when I lost my father. And even when she was in pain, and I was trying not to burst into tears, she made the effort to jump into my lap, and touch a paw to my chin and get me to finally collapse.

The magnitude of pain I feel is the payment I make for a life of unquestionable love that she gave me, and I would take on double this hurt for another day with her as her healthier self. But I couldn't ask that. I had to make the decision to let her go for her comfort. I will tank the pain, and take the wound if it means she doesn't have to go through any more illness and hurt.

When someone you love departs it leaves a wound in your heart. That hole never heals. It's always there, and always aches. With time, the edges soften, and the ache isn't as raw, but it is always there. We just learn to live with the holes in our hearts. I remember each one and bear each scar happily because it means I brought some kind of joy to another being I cared for, and they paid it back ten-fold.

My little mustache cat will be so missed. Life in its entirety feels far more quiet now that I'd like, and will take so much adjusting to. I have to live with not hearing her clear little squeak every time I'd open the bedroom door in the morning and see her sitting by her dish.

She came into my life by being too adorable to want to adopt out. She slept in my lap with tiny socked-paws in the air and my heart was completely owned by her from that moment onward. When we moved last November, she was the first one that explored and decided that she liked the place because her 'person' was there with her, and needed nearly no time to adjust to the new surroundings.

So my heart and soul are screaming. The wound is raw. I'm giving myself permission to be a useless wreck for the rest of the week, and to try and stand up again without her there. I hate the quiet left behind, but she has peace.

Forgive my lack of much productivity for this coming week.

I miss you so much my little squeaker. My babygirl. You were the finest companion I could ask for in these last couple of decades.

-T.J.