Plush Girl, a set on Flickr.
I am not exactly sure how to write this. You have been a part of my life for the last 16+ years. You picked me that day so long ago. You climbed my leg and claimed my heart all for your very own.
Now you’re gone. My plush girl. Thunder-paws. KittenFace. Cat Doily. Macha.
You were the best of kitties.
You kept us safe from the evil of socks. You held down the carpeting so that it wouldn’t get away. You were always there with a purr. You were the only kittie I ever knew who could give a hug, tucking a paw to either side of my neck and snuggling your head into the socket of my shoulder.
Oh. I’m going to miss you so much.
My heart just hurts and hurts and hurts.
Tomorrow, we are supposed to take your body to the vet’s office. They will have you cremated and then I’ll be given a small box full of your ashes.
I don’t know if I am ready for that. I don’t know that I’m ready to not comfort you during thunderstorms. Or to reassure you that there really, really is food in the bowl even if you can see the bottom. I don’t have to stay in bed extra-long so that you don’t have to move from your place behind my knees.
I know that I am not ready to not see you when I come home, holding sunbeam court at the top of the couch. It was your place once the arthritis got so bad that you couldn’t greet me at the door like you used to. You won’t be following me from room to room any more; it didn’t matter where you were so long as I was there, keeping the forces of chaos at bay. No more nose strokes or rubbing your silky little ears. No more bed snakes to attack and kill on sight. Or praying for pettin’s.
I’m glad that we spend last night together on the couch, watching the Firefly marathon together. Two geeks sharing a love fleece blankets and great characters. I will miss snuggling you.
I love you, old girl.