We put our boy to sleep nearly three weeks ago, on the 27th January. He was 15 years and 1 week old. The hole he's left in our lives aches like an open wound.
Both of us still feel him around. Last night, I allowed my arm to dangle over the back of the couch. We were watching a movie: Drive. At some point, I felt him bump his head into the back of my hand; something he used to do. I reached out to pet him. He wasn't there.
As I type this recollection, I can feel the emotion well up. I tell myself that, had I known this inevitability would hurt so much, I'd never have chosen to get him in the first place. It's insane. I don't regret a minute of his life. I really don't. But this hurts more than anything I've experienced in my 42 years.
The boy came into my life as a kitten. I was 18 months into my first proper relationship. I thought we were getting him to cement our bond, to make us a family. My boyfriend hoped the boy would keep me company. He was already planning to leave.
And he did keep me company. Too well, at times. I was mourning the loss of my first love whilst at the same time looking after a new life that needed me constantly. From Day 1 he bonded to me tightly. He became my shadow, a real Mr Underfoot. I couldn't even close the bathroom door without him howling to be let in. Once, I momentarity considered getting rid of him. I half-convinced myself that placing him with a family that was more equipped to cope with his needs was in everyone's best interest. For whatever reason, I couldn't go through with it. We were in this together. We were a team. I had chosen to get him and I would just have to do the best I could.
As much as I protected and nurtured him over the years, he gave it back tenfold. He was always there for me, a never-ending source of unconditional love and affection. Having him around meant that I was never lonely, even during quiet patches where nobody seemed to want to have sex with me, let alone date me. At times that I was dating, he often became jealous and even ran off a fair few unsuitable suitors! He tried to run off my husband in the early years, but he came around, eventually. In later years, it sometimes seemed that the two of them loved each other as much as they loved me.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised that not having him is so hard. I should try to be grateful that I got to know him as a kitten, a young cat, through middle-age and to care for him as he slowed down towards the end.