I have been absent.

I lost my cat, my best friend and familiar, Kirby, at the beginning of this month. He started getting sick in April, and he unfortunately succumbed to his illness on May 4th. I’ve been struggling a bit since then.

I got Kirby when I moved out of my parents’ house at 18. He was my little friend, so that I wouldn’t be alone when my boyfriend at the time and my roommates were at work. I remember walking into the SPCA kitten room, and he was the only kitten that was so happy to see me, and when he approached me, I knew I would love him with everything I have for all the time we were blessed to have together.

Nineteen beautiful years.

The crying has stopped, but I still wake up in the middle of the night and panic because I cannot feel him curled up behind my knees (which he always loved to sleep behind because then I was stuck and couldn’t move for the night – bless him, LOL).

I’m 90% sure it was a mixture of old age and cancer. All I could do was make him comfortable and loved at the end, because I wasn’t able to get him into the vet before he passed. We were having a quiet night at home, relaxing in the bedroom. He shuddered a little, exhaled, and then didn’t breathe again.

I miss him. Which is understatement of the fucking year. Pickle Rick avoided the bedroom for the last few days of Kirby’s life… I don’t think he was able to deal with what was going on. It’s been over 2 weeks now, and Pickle Rick is just now starting to come back into the bedroom and cuddle or spend time. He’s never been by himself in his life; he’s always been with Kirby, but I’m just glad that he seems to be adjusting okay, and he’s coming around.

My oldest came to me and asked about possibly getting Pickle Rick a new friend, but I’ve put that possibility to the side for now. Maybe in the future, but not now. The grief is still too much and I just miss my boy.