He's Gone...

My Mikey is gone.  And he's never coming back.

My heart is so completely broken. I wish this were all a bad dream.

That photo is the last one I took of the two of us, just two days before he died.


It's been 5 days since I let him go, and it hasn't gotten any easier.

I still keep hearing his voice in my head and expecting to see him around every corner.  I would give anything for one more day with him, healthy, to hold him and snuggle him and smell his head and kiss his paws. 

I've played last Thursday night over and over in my head.  Questioning if I did the right thing.  Going over what I thought went wrong.  Wondering what was going through his mind and if he knew through it all how much I loved him. 

I had a vet come to my house that night, which I thought would be the best way for him.  I didn't want the last thing he experienced to be a cold steel table in an unfamiliar, scary place.

The morning after, I drove back to Pennsylvania, tears streaming down my face the entire time, with both of my cats in the car.  My dad dug a hole and we laid Mikey to rest in my parents backyard under the apple tree where our family dog is buried.  He looked like he was sleeping.  Even though I knew his spirit was no longer in that body, I still couldn't believe it was the last time I'd ever see him in this life.  It still doesn't feel real. 

Sal grieved for days, searching frantically for Mikey in my apartment and at my parents house.  He cried under the bed the first night and couldn't sleep.  He continues to search and look behind him constantly for Mikey and at night sits atop the bed, looking into the hallway, waiting.  I can't imagine what he's thinking and I'm worried about leaving him home alone all day from now on.

From the day they were born and for the past 11 years, they were constant companions.  They have never even spent 1 day apart.  They slept together, played together and groomed each other daily.  They were brothers and soulmates.

There have been a few times I've seen Sal looking over my shoulder, eyes wide and unflinching, and I believe Mikey is visiting him.  Today, he was staring intently down the hall, and then chased something up the stairs.  I believe they are still playing together.

I don't want to keep crying about Mikey, but I also don't want him to think I've forgotten about him.

We weathered the blizzard in Pennsylvania and just came home to my apartment tonight.  I think a tiny little part of me expected to see Mikey waiting for us when we returned. 

His food bowl and litter box are still out.  I still have jars of baby food on my counter and his medicine in the fridge.  I'm not yet ready to pack up all the reminders.

I miss him more than I ever thought possible, and our lives will never be the same.  I can't believe this is our new reality.

I hope he knows how much I love him, and I hope wherever he is, he's not hurting and not lonely.

I got this photo of my boys snuggling, the night before Mikey died:

I lost a piece of my heart last week that I'll never get back.  My sweet boy, I loved you so much and I always will. 

What greater gift than the love of a cat? ~ Charles Dickens