For the first time in over 20 years there are no sounds of little cat feet in my home.
Until this past April we had two cats - but Cleo passed away then. She came into my life late, sort of. When TheKid’s dad moved in, he brought the quiet, beautiful Cleo with him. She never meowed, she chirruped. Having no front claws, she had a delicate walk - even when she was 20 pounds. Last January she started losing weight. By March she was down to a “normal” 9 pounds. She was my lovey cat. At night she would sleep by my head, purr into my ear, and was just all around one of the sweetest cats I’ve known. She was 16 years old when she went downstairs and never came back up. I was heartbroken. She was always TheKid’s cat, but as she aged she became my cat too.

Four years prior to Cleo coming into my life, I fell in kittylove with one of the ugliest balls of fur ever. She had a fox face with huge ears, sitting all alone at the humane society. It was love at first MEOW! She wasn’t quiet, even then. Sadly, the Bernie is now playing with Cleo. Three years ago she was put on thyroid meds when she went from 12 pounds down to 6 pounds in less than a month. We were able to keep her between 5 and 6 pounds until about a month ago, when she started losing muscle. When her vet called about refilling her prescription, I started crying - every time I refilled the damn thing I thought it would be the last. But she was a stubborn cuss. Until last night. She could barely walk. Age and the meds made her fragile. She turned her tiny nose up at her favorite food - warmed up beef baby food. She meowed for the first time in a long time - but these were feeble meows directed at no one we could see.
So today we had to say good bye to her. When I last held her, nuzzling her little noggin, she looked up and quietly meowed.

My house is too quiet. I don’t want to go to bed. After Cleo died, Bernie took her place snuggling with me. Every night she’d hop up and curl up alongside of me. If I was doing crossword puzzles she’d plunk her fuzzy butt down in the middle of the book. Even last night she managed to hop up and curl up with me. Ass in face, of course, but that was her.

I hate this. TheKid is torn up. I miss my little fuzzybutts.

You’d think with our age and experience it would get easier with losing a pet, but it never does; in some ways it seems worse. Last dog I put down I cried like a baby.

Sorry, it always sucks.

We haven’t lost any kitties - yet. Jim’s cat is 13 and seems to be getting arthritis everywhere, and my cat is 10. My cat is a pain in the ass because she wants me to play with her all the time, but I have a feeling in a couple of years I’m going to wish she was up for playing all the time again. We haven’t lost ours yet, but you have my sympathy, MissTake - I know our house is going to seem awfully quiet and empty without our two tiny little pains in the butt in it, too.

So sorry for your loss, MissTake.

It’s amazing how they wind themselves around our hearts, isn’t it? Whenever I go away for more than a day or two, I start seeing little kitteh shapes out of the corner of my eye… it’s just habit to have one or both of my fuzzbutts sitting somewhere within my line of sight (they’re like dogs… they follow me from room to room, even when they’re not in the mood for cuddles). I can’t imagine life without either of them. :frowning:

Sorry, Missy.

I am very sorry for your loss. For the first time in my adult life I have gotten a dog and she now owns my heart. I know when she goes I will be torn up.

Sending supporting thoughts your way.

I managed to sleep last night. Around 3am. On the living room floor. My back hates me. TheKid is wrecked, but I sent her to school - she has some great friends that will help her.

It’s still too damn quiet in here. I keep expecting the furball to hop up and lay down on the keyboard - her usual “pay attention to ME!” tactic.

My mom is now catless after an even longer time with the species (there have been 2-3 cats in the house since before I was born), but her last two both died this past year (at something like 22 and 20 years old, so both had long, full lives). She’s decided that she won’t get any more cats, though she still has a dog. The house is going to seem so empty when I come home for Christmas.

Sorry for your loss - I know how hard it is to lose a four-legged loved one. I say get a new kitty - it helps assuage the loss.