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Hugo Alexander
Dec. 17th, 2021 11:54 pmI knew it. I don't know how I knew it. I just did.
He stopped eating Sunday night and he was gone by Thursday. It was quiet and uncomplicated. Fast. I was shocked at how fast. Plus -- seventeen! I am, in fact, aware that a seventeen year old cat is a very, very old cat. I know I have no right to complain. We had a lot of really awesome years together.
But.
It wasn't enough. It didn't feel like a lot of years at all. It felt like a blip.
So I'm sitting here, and it's nighttime, and...I don't know what to do with myself. Aside from a handful of wacky anomalies, I think it's been something like 25 years since I slept under a catless roof. Maybe longer. I don't know how people do this. Nothing about it feels right.
His most recent thing is, instead of sitting next to me on the bed and doing our butt-on-butt routine, he wedges himself behind me, between me and the pillow -- usually while I'm trying to read. He'll lay there on his side, brace his little feet against my back, and spend the whole night kicking me in the spine, the jerk. And he's not here to do it tonight, and he'll never do it again and I feel like I can't breathe.
I'm sorry. This is emotionally sloppy of me. I haven't even pressed 'post' yet and I'm already embarrassed.
Wow. What a year.
He stopped eating Sunday night and he was gone by Thursday. It was quiet and uncomplicated. Fast. I was shocked at how fast. Plus -- seventeen! I am, in fact, aware that a seventeen year old cat is a very, very old cat. I know I have no right to complain. We had a lot of really awesome years together.
But.
It wasn't enough. It didn't feel like a lot of years at all. It felt like a blip.
So I'm sitting here, and it's nighttime, and...I don't know what to do with myself. Aside from a handful of wacky anomalies, I think it's been something like 25 years since I slept under a catless roof. Maybe longer. I don't know how people do this. Nothing about it feels right.
His most recent thing is, instead of sitting next to me on the bed and doing our butt-on-butt routine, he wedges himself behind me, between me and the pillow -- usually while I'm trying to read. He'll lay there on his side, brace his little feet against my back, and spend the whole night kicking me in the spine, the jerk. And he's not here to do it tonight, and he'll never do it again and I feel like I can't breathe.
I'm sorry. This is emotionally sloppy of me. I haven't even pressed 'post' yet and I'm already embarrassed.
Wow. What a year.