Velcro and what's left of my heart.
Velcro
022802 - 050510
“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”
She always greeted me when I got home. She would always kiss my nose hello. She'd stretch up my legs for me to pick her up like she was my 3-year-old child. Then she'd put her front paws on my shoulder and nuzzle me until I found a place for us to sit.
She loved to jump in my lap and do that silly little dough-making kneading thing on my belly with a random paw to a boob.
She growled at the door when someone was coming. She attacked my ex. Shredded him. He thought it was unprovoked. I knew it was because she knew he had broken my heart.
She greeted everyone and sat on your lap, all 13 pounds of her. She liked all boys but loved a few. Wayne, Vaughn and Brian were her favorite boys of all time.
She always slept in bed with me. If it was super cold, she slept on my legs. Otherwise, she was always sleeping, curled up around my arm, her head under my chin.
She purred harder and louder than anything I've ever known. So loud, I could hear her despite my half deaf ears.
Based off an actual photo and created with Adobe Illustrator.
She was my muse and my baby. Her passing was unexpected and has torn a hole through my heart and soul. To some, she's just a cat. To those that knew her and me, she was everything. I will miss every time she stole the warm spot in bed or just appeared out of nowhere to claim her real estate of whatever furniture she probably wasn't supposed to be on.
I take consolation in the hope that she'll save a place for me.
Back in early 2003. Velcro and I.
Good night, moon.