Saying goodbye

Saying goodbye is never an easy thing to do.

Monday 2 November 2020, I had to say goodbye to my baby boy.

He was 18.5 and was always by my side.

I brought him home at 3 months old and he fit in the palm of my hand. His favourite spot was always in my arms. The fact that he no longer fit into the palm of my hand didn’t stop him from being in my arms.

I almost lost him once when we made the move from Canada to Australia. He always hated being away from me and would make himself sick.

On the move to our new home, he just stopped eating. He was in boarding for a few weeks while I was in Australia. He ate little bits when I got back to Toronto to get him and his sister ready for the move and then stopped eating again while making the move. When he finally landed in Melbourne for the mandatory 10 day quarantine, he was rushed to the emergency vet and put on an IV drip for fluids. He had lost a lot of weight.

When we picked Bear and Princess up from the airport to bring them home, he cried the whole car ride home. As soon as we got them home, the first thing he did was crawl into my arms. That’s where he knew he was safe. He was home, with mama.

It took a while to get him back to eating properly again, but he got there. He got his monster appetite back.

He loved being outside and laying in the sun. He used to pull his leash and harness off the chair and drag them to my feet when he wanted to go sit on the deck in the sun.

He was always at my feet too, weaving in and out as I walked or sitting on them as I prepped dinner in the kitchen.

Meal time was difficult some days. He always wanted whatever I was eating. I had to precut my meal before sitting down to eat so that I could eat.

He absolutely LOVED peanut butter and ice cream. I couldn't eat anything peanut butter without leaving some on a spoon for him to lick clean. It was the same with ice cream. He would try to knock a cone out of my hand so he could have it or if it was in a bowl, he would try to pull the bowl out of my hands.

He wasn't the healthiest cat. He had a heart murmur, he had mega colon and he was partially blind but that never stopped him.

Even in the end, he didn't give up. He always had to be with me.

The night before letting him go, his back legs stopped working. They would occasionally give out on the tiled floor, but this was different. He couldn't take a single step without doing the splits. He dragged himself to follow me. On his final day, I could see the pain and frustration in his eyes. He did not want to leave my side for a single second. If I got up to pee, I had to bring him into the bathroom with me and sit him at my feet.

Deciding to let him go was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I felt like I was failing him as his human because I was letting him go. I know it was the right thing to do, but it didn't make it any easier. I couldn't let him suffer and seeing him in pain and being that frustrated was breaking me.

He had a good life.

He was the one constant in my life. I went through many ups and downs and he was always there to give me a cuddle and let me know that everything was going to be alright.

It's been almost 2 weeks since I said goodbye to my precious boy and I still find myself looking everywhere for him.

I haven't had a good night's sleep since I let him go. For 18.5 years, he slept curled up on my arm under the blanket with his head tucked under my chin. Not having him there has made my nights restless.

I know it will get easier with time, but for now, it's still breaking my heart that he's not here any more.

I miss my boy more than I ever thought I could.

I haven't decided what to do with his ashes yet, but for now, they're in a safe place.

I got copies of his paw prints which I will have tattooed on me. I haven't decided where exactly to have them tattooed yet, but when I do, I will get them done without hesitation.

RIP my precious boy. Thank you for letting me be your human for so long and for loving me the way you did.