Goodbye, Harvey.
A few days ago I realized that my cat was missing. At first I didn't worry about it too much because he is always getting outside and usually returns in a couple hours. For some reason, however, my gut told me that this time something was different. Something was wrong. When he didn't return that day, I started having anxiety attacks. I kept sitting on my deck and calling out for him, but I didn't get a response (he usually always comes when I call or at least meows back). Yesterday I printed fliers and handed them out to neighbors. They were all really supportive because they all loved him (Harvey would go up to anybody and purr instantly). Today I even put up some fliers at the local grocery stores and gas stations. My family all said that I shouldn't worry, that he would be back soon. I tried to stay positive but I couldn't shake my bad feeling. Then, this evening my dad came in to the house and told me he found Harvey. He had died in the garage and we can't be sure how it happened.
I am truly heartbroken. That cat was everything to me. He was the Toothless to my Hiccup. He helped me through some of my lowest points and I don't know what I am gonna do without him. He was the only pet I ever had that ever really felt like he belonged to me.
I also feel really terrible for my mom's cat Tippin. They were brothers and they LOVED each other (always cuddling, cleaning, and playing with each other). All day since Harvey went missing he has been crying all over the house and pawing at the door to go out and look for him.
