Noche
My cat died yesterday. That doesn't really seem like news, since she's been dying for at least the past four months. It was back in March that the vet told us her kidneys had failed and it was probably a matter of days. It turned out to be a months, not days, but my poor Noche just faded away. Eating less and less and sleeping more and more. Cats are neither here nor there to begin with, but she gradually became even less here and more there. I came home yesterday and my mom told me that she'd found her curled up in one of her usual spots on the bed, but this time she wasn't asleep.
I'll miss her so much. She was there for me through so many things. Two houses, four schools, four colleges, old friends, marriages, births, deaths, new friends. I've had her since I was ten. I can't even remember what it's like to be ten. The changes, the difference between ten and twenty-three - everything's completely different. But my Noche was always there. A tiny ball of purring black fur. A mischievous shadow always underfoot.
It's strange how much a pet gets into your life. You don't always notice them moment to moment, but when they're gone it leaves a huge hole. I keep looking at her favorite spots and expecting to see her there, but she's not. I went to fill the water bowl and clean the litter box, then realized I didn't need to. I reach out to pet her, but there's nobody to pet. I keep thinking about the word bereft - sorrowful through loss or deprivation. That's how I feel. It's not just feeling sad, it's feeling that something is missing. Life goes on, but something is missing and always will be.
I'll miss her so much. She was there for me through so many things. Two houses, four schools, four colleges, old friends, marriages, births, deaths, new friends. I've had her since I was ten. I can't even remember what it's like to be ten. The changes, the difference between ten and twenty-three - everything's completely different. But my Noche was always there. A tiny ball of purring black fur. A mischievous shadow always underfoot.
It's strange how much a pet gets into your life. You don't always notice them moment to moment, but when they're gone it leaves a huge hole. I keep looking at her favorite spots and expecting to see her there, but she's not. I went to fill the water bowl and clean the litter box, then realized I didn't need to. I reach out to pet her, but there's nobody to pet. I keep thinking about the word bereft - sorrowful through loss or deprivation. That's how I feel. It's not just feeling sad, it's feeling that something is missing. Life goes on, but something is missing and always will be.