Too Hard to Write

I've been staring at this empty box not wanting to even write the words. Senior Kitty is gone.

I wrote about him here many months ago, when we first realized he was sick and nearing the end. He defied everyone's predictions and continued to soldier on and live a good life lo these many months. But this morning it became clear when yet another part of his body failed him that it was time to let him go.

Knowing it was coming, having prepared ourselves for this since last January doesn't make it any easier. Having to give him up just weeks after losing Little Kitty seems a bit much. We have no kitties now. No more kitties.

I knew Senior Kitty would hold out until after Bug was born. I knew he would. We wondered how he'd take to him, if he'd go running to hide whenever Bug started crying. The day we brought Bug home, we brought him over to Senior Kitty to sniff. Senior Kitty looked at Bug nonchalantly and walked on, as if to say, "Him? yeah, that's the guy I've been napping on, the one that's been in Food Lady's tummy the past few months. I know who he is!" We have a picture of Mr. F sitting on the couch with Bug and Senior Kitty. Senior Kitty is cuddled up close to Mr. F and Bug. Whenever Bug did cry, Senior Kitty would start howling as if to say "Hey! Somebody come and do something!" You've never heard a ruckus quite like the two of them yowling in concert!

This morning before we left for the vet, Mr. F picked up Senior Kitty and held him over Bug's crib, where he could see him. He was showing Bug his first kitty, the best kitty ever. I had to look away. Bug won't remember this day, and he won't remember Senior Kitty and that kills me. I wish he'd been able to grow up with Senior Kitty and love him as much as we do.