So, I have been a three-cat household for years. Alix, my baby, is about to be seven. But I’m about a week into being a two cat household. Let me tell you that I absolutely, positively hate it.
This is my Brynnie. Brynn Diana. Born May 4, 2006. Who breathed her last breath on January 2, 2016. She didn’t even make it to ten.
And while I know that there was nothing I could have done for her, even if I had every dollar in the entire world at my disposal, I still hate that I’ve gone 8 days without a light in my life.
This is the kitten that was so little when I got her that they weighed her on the medicine scale and gave me a weight in grams. The one I used to carry around the house, who would perch on my shoulder like a parrot because she hated being held. I nursed her when I first got her, and I nursed her at the very end.
I hope she understood that everything I ever did for her I did with love.
She almost died the day I brought her home. Nine and a half years later, it was the same type of illness that we treated and hoped beyond hope for a miracle that never came.
I’m okay during the day. Cats sleep a lot, and during the day wasn’t a time that I saw her all that often. But at night – when I’m relaxing on the couch or going to bed. Or early in the morning – which was her favorite time to bother me… I just feel empty.
Who knew a few pounds of fluff could make such a big impact on a life? Who knew that a few pounds of fluff could make such a big hole when it was gone?
I never knew that a heart could break like this.
Mandi M. Lynch 