I just got back inside from burying him. I put him in the yard near the deck so I'll always know where he is and I can visit him.

He was my best friend and the best cat you could ever ask for. Not a mean bone in his entire body. He never bit, scratched or growled. He was a cuddle bug right up until yesterday when he came and kneaded on me before bed last night.

We got him back in 2012 from a petsmart. Originally we planned on getting another cat but Wolfie won us over, he just looked so cute in his cage lying on his back. I remember the other cat jumping on him.

He loved butter and anything diary and would always pester me when I was having milk or cheese. Just 2 weeks ago he jumped up on the counter and took shredded cheese out of a bag.

He always had health problems. When he was young we had to have his teeth pulled due to infection. And his stomach had always bothered him. I wonder if that played a role in his death.

I was with him at the end giving him pets as I watched him take his final breaths.

I love you my little peanut head and hope to see you again someplace better when I pass on to.

  • RedWizard [he/him, comrade/them]
    ·
    1 month ago

    Loss is a terrible thing. The loss of a pet is without a doubt one of the hardest forms it comes in. The unconditional, unwavering love a pet expresses takes up more space in your heart then you are even aware. It is as if they exist simultaneously as diminutive souls and as lumbering giants. It's the giant you feel the absence of, it's the giant that leaves its impression on you, it's the giant you will always remember.

    Love, in all forms, from all sources, develops us as creatures. You are who you are in part due to the love this giant shared with you. Like a blessing from beyond the vale of the real, you have been touched and forever changed. Carry it with you, and you will always have them at your side.

    I'm so happy for the life you shared together, know that it was beautiful.