On August 22nd I wrote that my cat might live another week or another year. Crushingly, it turned out to be one month.
Even though her last month was filled with worry and tears and ER visits and more medication than I thought possible for a small cat, there was also so much care, so much love, and so many purrs. I will forever cherish those last few weeks I got to spend with her.
She was the smallest in the household but arguably had the biggest personality. She was orange, brave, curious, loving, and a true friend. She lived life on her terms. We always saw her as very independent, yet going over the thousands of photos, it struck me that she was always there, whether we were working, cooking, renovating the house, or watching a movie.
I’ve been reading about grief and this bit seems like a good lifeline for me right now:
The process of healthy grieving is not to “get over” the death of a loved one, but to integrate the experience of loss into present life.
We put her down a few days ago but it’s still a shock to talk about her in the past. She’s still everywhere in the house, everywhere I go, everywhere I look. So it will take time. No life is too small to touch you in profound ways.
She will be with me forever in my heart and memories, and I will miss her orange fire forever.