the fur ball

It's been one month since he has been gone. One whole month. That's one month of no nose licking, turning on the faucet every hour, spiting hair out of my mouth, cleaning the hair up, and no cuddling during movies. It's been weird to change my routine around this past month. I've realized there's so many small things that I did everyday for Patches that I have to tell myself that I don't have to do anymore.

However, I still catch myself checking to make sure my door is open just enough so that I don't have to get up later when he's meowing to be let in. I even make sure all glasses of water are out of the room at night so that he doesn't stick his paws in and knock them over. One morning I even turned the faucet on for him, thinking he'd run through the door and when he didn't I remembered, "Kelly, your cat's dead."

I think it's unconsciously comforting for me to still do the things that I did for him even though I know that he's never coming back. It's hard to lose a pet, probably just as hard as losing someone you love. Pets can be just as close or even closer than people sometimes and losing that sucks. It sucks big time. Big time suckage! Looking back on the life that I gave Patches and the countless smiles he gave me in return, makes me smile even more.

I miss you boo. I hope they have dripping faucets where you are.