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This week has been a hard one for my family. Earlier this week, we lost our beloved Cat after 18 years together. Digger didn't like most people, but he chose us as *his* people, which makes our loss even harder. Incidentally, this was taken about a week ago. He was getting weaker, but rallied to attack my taco pizza. He was my #longtermrelationship and god, I miss him. Rest easy, old friend.
Not so eloquently stated, this week sucked. I miss my cat. My husband and I continue to look for him in his familiar spots and have our hearts cracked every day by the little things that follow a great loss. Not having to worry about food out on the kitchen counters. Not having to shut doors and having to block entryways. I bought groceries today and did not have to worry that my feline would find the hamburger and attack it. And then there are the larger things – that familiar mirp when coming up the stairs or that hip check he’d give when he’d find you in the bathroom. Eighteen years worth of memories. People tell me that the cat was lucky that I found him (which is a long story that involves a flexible moral compass, so it’s one that I’m happy to tell in person and not in writing), but to be honest – I was the lucky one.