Our dear Kit-Kat rested on Wednesday evening at the kitty ER after an unexpectedly long bout of throwing up. She was alive when we started driving; 10 minutes later she likely had already died as we hurried up to the counter. She was only 10 years old. We buried her on Thursday in a back yard that has 4 other kitty graves (that I know of).
No longer will I fear the squish of cold cat barf (or worse warm cat barf) between my toes.
No longer will my wife’s nice furniture be shredded, not uniformly, but only in certain places.
No longer will I walk around with pinholes in all of my T-shirts from sharp claws.
No longer will I have the occasional parallel streaks of blood on my arm.
No longer will I wonder if an accidentally unguarded dinner plate has been nibbled on.
No longer will I enjoy the acrid aroma of cat pee around the house.
No longer will I shovel clumps of litter and poop into bags, to be hauled out with the weekly trash.
No longer will I patch the clawed up sections of our walls and door trim.
No longer will I worry about whether the glass of water I left out contains cat spit.
No more will I have to use a fur roller to remove cat fur from dark clothing.
No longer will I hear the meows and scrabbling at the bedroom door when she wants to share my food.
But none of that matters. Life is sad without feline activity in the home!
More than anything, yesterday afternoon when I had some Taco Bell food, I wanted to do as I always have and let generous dollops of tacos and burritos accidentally fall on a small plate that was then placed where she could find it. But that food would have remained uneaten.
I’m so sorry for your loss. The house must feel so much emptier now without her. I’ve had cats for … well, since well before I moved out as an adult, many decades ago, and I can’t comprehend what it would be like without one.
As hard as it is to lose them, I don’t think I could live catless, not for long anyway. I’m so, so sorry for the cat-sized hole in your lives. I know it all too well and it sucks My crew sends quiet purrs your way
I too am sorry to hear of your loss. As a college-aged guy, I thought I was a “dog person,” but Halloween weekend 2007, I met and adopted two little 2-1/2 week old kitten brothers, who melted my heart and made me a definitive “cat guy.” We had to let one go this past May, but his brother turned eighteen years old this month. I know his time is limited–brother is showing his age–and I’m not looking forward to the second loss…
But I recognize that I am a far richer person for having let them adopt us.
My sympathies. I lost my last two siamese a few years ago. I didn’t think it seemed fair to get another with 5 dogs. But as I was doing a dog rescue transport yesterday, a transport texted me the picture of a cat dumped at a trailer park. Since she was in Chattanooga, where yesterday’s transport picked up, I got her, too. No name yet, and she’ll have to get vet checked, but here is possibly Molly. This is the rescue’s pic. Right now she has the bathroom and laundry room, and I’m sitting with her and I have a baby gate and I’m sitting at the door so the dogs can get used to her safely.
Very sorry for you unexpected loss. We are losing 2 of our cats, they are very old, 17 or so, and just got 2 rescue kittens to help them leave, and teach them the ways of this place.
Many more needing homes out there. Have not had kittens for many years, boy are they silly.
Fingers very firmly crossed, our two seem to be doing OK at the moment, though we lost two others over the last few tears. Oops, typo, years… but appropriate.
This is me, too. Except for college dorms, I’ve never been catless. We had cats my whole childhood. When I would return home during breaks, there was always a cat. As soon as I got my first apartment after graduation (1999), I got a cat.
That was Staci (Anastasia). Staci was with me through grad school, buying a house, and marriage. A month after we got married, we got Mona (Desdemona). That was May of 2006. Staci died in 2012 of complications of diabetes. A year later we got The Great Catsby.
This past April, Catsby passed suddenly and unexpectedly from what we think was a pulmonary embolism. In July, Mona, rapidly approaching 20, finally gave in to age. And I was catless.
We gave it a few months to see how it felt. We decided it’s too quiet. We’re picking up a six-month pair of siblings this Friday (currently Bubbles and Fizz, but that will probably change).
My crew sends quiet purrs your way 
