![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I just read Oscar's memoriam, and I'm crying like a baby. I've had and lost a lot of pets in my lifetime, but there are some that just stay with you--some whose personalities are such a perfect fit with yours that you really do become best friends, and losing those best friends is like losing a part of your soul.
I think I was 10 or 11 when we got Jay, our terrier. He was my constant companion--always there for me when I had few or no other friends. I had been out of the house for several years when he passed away, but somehow, I knew it. He died the day M. and I were supposed to be married. Things didn't go right for the wedding and it had to be postponed. But somehow I knew it was more than just wedding chaos wrong. To this day--nine years later--I still have dreams about him sometimes, and I miss him so much.
I don't know how much longer Kitty Bob has. She's at least 16, and I've had her for 15 years. I've lived with her longer than I lived with Jay. Longer than I've been with M. Longer than I was with my ex. I've had Punky for almost as long--about 14 years--and though I love him, too (goodness knows I have to, with the way he destroys things) Kitty Bob is the one I've bonded with. She's the friendliest cat I've ever seen. She latches on to humans more than to the other cats. You can't sit down without her promptly in your lap, head-butting your hand, demanding attention. She contentedly snoozes away between M. and me on the couch while we're watching tv or reading and complains if one of us leaves. She's taken to rushing to the door when I come home on weekends and then never leaving my side except when I go upstairs.
She's diabetic and has early stage renal failure. She's arthritic and beginning to get cataracts. We're caring for her as best we can with special food and supplements. We won't hesitate to do whatever she needs to feel comfortable and be as healthy as she can be for as long as she can be. The joy she's given me and continues to give me is worth far more than any money I've spent on her. But I know she won't be with us forever. I hope she holds on until I'm finished with school, because I want to spend as much time with her in her last days as I can. I'm prepared for the inevitable, and I'm cherishing every moment I get to have with her.
I know there will be other pets in my future. And I dearly love our other three furbabies, too. But none will be her, and when she is gone, there will forever be a dark space in my life where she used to be. I'm grateful to have known her for so much of her--and my--life.
I think I was 10 or 11 when we got Jay, our terrier. He was my constant companion--always there for me when I had few or no other friends. I had been out of the house for several years when he passed away, but somehow, I knew it. He died the day M. and I were supposed to be married. Things didn't go right for the wedding and it had to be postponed. But somehow I knew it was more than just wedding chaos wrong. To this day--nine years later--I still have dreams about him sometimes, and I miss him so much.
I don't know how much longer Kitty Bob has. She's at least 16, and I've had her for 15 years. I've lived with her longer than I lived with Jay. Longer than I've been with M. Longer than I was with my ex. I've had Punky for almost as long--about 14 years--and though I love him, too (goodness knows I have to, with the way he destroys things) Kitty Bob is the one I've bonded with. She's the friendliest cat I've ever seen. She latches on to humans more than to the other cats. You can't sit down without her promptly in your lap, head-butting your hand, demanding attention. She contentedly snoozes away between M. and me on the couch while we're watching tv or reading and complains if one of us leaves. She's taken to rushing to the door when I come home on weekends and then never leaving my side except when I go upstairs.
She's diabetic and has early stage renal failure. She's arthritic and beginning to get cataracts. We're caring for her as best we can with special food and supplements. We won't hesitate to do whatever she needs to feel comfortable and be as healthy as she can be for as long as she can be. The joy she's given me and continues to give me is worth far more than any money I've spent on her. But I know she won't be with us forever. I hope she holds on until I'm finished with school, because I want to spend as much time with her in her last days as I can. I'm prepared for the inevitable, and I'm cherishing every moment I get to have with her.
I know there will be other pets in my future. And I dearly love our other three furbabies, too. But none will be her, and when she is gone, there will forever be a dark space in my life where she used to be. I'm grateful to have known her for so much of her--and my--life.
