I started a journal, thinking that would help ease some of my heartache, but decided to also come here. When I lost my Meela just over 4 years ago, the people were fabulous with me, trying to make me feel better. Then I came back in the late fall of 2019 when I lost Meela's dad, Meeka to a heart attack. He was only 5.
This time my story is a bit different, but still very painful.
In Feb. 2019 I noticed this black cat that was going house to house at night, scratching at the door, trying to get in. It was quite cold out. I told my daughter about it (who lives just down the road) and she said he has been around for a month or so and she was leaving food out. I ended meeting him face to face out back of my house. His beauty took my breath away. We became friends and I made him a shelter on the porch with food. He was there every night for over a week. My son decided the porch wasn't good enough, so he had been sneaking him in his room at night. Long story short, I adopted him and he became a permanent member of our family. The irony of timing is that it was the week of Valentine's day and he had a large heart-shaped white patch on his chest.
He and I had to deal with our trust issues. I don't have outside cats and he was one of them. He learned to trust me when I kept him inside, usually due to weather or something like that. I had to trust him that he would keep coming back. So for the last 26 months Buddy and I worked on our issues and things were really good. When he went out, I never saw him leave our street. He hung out in back of my daughters house or the neighbors, but always came when I called him.
Last Thursday (4/15) the weather was nice, so I let him out of our basement window. He liked to sleep down there because there was another cat that didn't particularly like him. But he wasn't alone, he had his daughter Mia with him. I opened the window and told him he knew the rules. That was the very last time I saw him. He didn't come home that night which was not like him. My husband tried to convince me that he was probably just chasing a female in heat somewhere. At that time, I think I wanted to believe that theory because what could be another reason? I mean, he can't be dead because I drove around looking for him and never saw him anywhere. I drove around and walked the streets calling for him. Each day later, I realized this didn't feel right because he always came home. My daughter thought maybe he got into a garage and was trapped somewhere. We talked to our neighbors and they all had seen him that day. The last time he was seen was around 4:30.
After searching and calling out since Thursday night, I decided to message my neighbor's daughter. They live out behind us and at one point had several cats in their barn. I sent her a photo of him and she immediately replied, "I think your cat may have been the one dead down the road". She apologized about it and said it was a big black one. She said that it was Thursday in the late afternoon. The irony is that he was on the other street that I can even see from my kitchen window. It's a busy road and though there is a speed limit, people are idiots and fly up and down it.
I sent my daughter over to the area and had her take the picture of him to see if he could be identified. First she called and said it wasn't him, that there was too much white and the areas he had white, there weren't any, like on his chest. At first I was so relieved. But then I'm like the where is Buddy?
She came home and I was still crying. As she stood at the kitchen sink with her back to me, I could tell something wasn't right. I asked her if she lied to me and she said "do you really need to know the truth, mom?" I told her yes that I needed to know if there was ever a chance I would see him again. She then started crying and said, "it was him". My nephew and his neighbor found him and immediately buried him. They didn't want him run over. I guess they both felt bad. But honestly, they did the right thing.
My only sight of him was his back end going out that window. I am never going to see my best friend again. I know he loved me and he knows I loved him because I told him every night. He would then purr and rub his head on mine. What I can't seem to get past is my sadness in missing him. I can't stop crying for very long. My guilt is that I never would have let him out, had I known that this could have happened. I don't know why he was there or how it even happened. Was he on his way home? Did he do this often (go on that street and was lucky every other time) and I didn't know? Seems that I was the only one who never saw him after he went out that window.
He was so full of life. Mia is now going down cellar every chance she gets and hollars for him. It breaks my heart. I know I will get through this eventually, but right now, I just can't stop crying. I miss him so much. The idea of never seeing him again is so painful.
With Meela, I still have a lot of grief & guilt about letting the vet talk me into putting her down, when I didn't need to. WIth Meeka, he had a heart attack right in front of me and there was nothing I could do to save him.
Now Buddy. I just don't know how to keep moving forward. I love him so much. I have been trying to give my other cats undivided attention equally, but they are not the best type of cuddling cats. Buddy was a cuddler. I just feel stuck right now. I want him back. I would give anything to see him for one last time alive..even 5 minutes. I know that the last 26 months were good for both of us. I took him in when he needed a home. In return, he loved me and was very loyal to me. He was such a good cat. He had a humorous side to him, too. I'll never know his age now. I was hoping when I made his appointment to be fixed, that the could give me an idea of how old he was.
I am trying to celebrate his life, but it's not easy. I have to go to my basement to do my laundry and seeing his bed empty kills me. I still feel like I will see him running up the sidewalk, coming home or laying on the front porch - rolling around. I just don't know what to do. What's worse is that he's not even buried here. I can't go to his grave to visit him.
Anyway - thanks for letting me get this in writing.
This time my story is a bit different, but still very painful.
In Feb. 2019 I noticed this black cat that was going house to house at night, scratching at the door, trying to get in. It was quite cold out. I told my daughter about it (who lives just down the road) and she said he has been around for a month or so and she was leaving food out. I ended meeting him face to face out back of my house. His beauty took my breath away. We became friends and I made him a shelter on the porch with food. He was there every night for over a week. My son decided the porch wasn't good enough, so he had been sneaking him in his room at night. Long story short, I adopted him and he became a permanent member of our family. The irony of timing is that it was the week of Valentine's day and he had a large heart-shaped white patch on his chest.
He and I had to deal with our trust issues. I don't have outside cats and he was one of them. He learned to trust me when I kept him inside, usually due to weather or something like that. I had to trust him that he would keep coming back. So for the last 26 months Buddy and I worked on our issues and things were really good. When he went out, I never saw him leave our street. He hung out in back of my daughters house or the neighbors, but always came when I called him.
Last Thursday (4/15) the weather was nice, so I let him out of our basement window. He liked to sleep down there because there was another cat that didn't particularly like him. But he wasn't alone, he had his daughter Mia with him. I opened the window and told him he knew the rules. That was the very last time I saw him. He didn't come home that night which was not like him. My husband tried to convince me that he was probably just chasing a female in heat somewhere. At that time, I think I wanted to believe that theory because what could be another reason? I mean, he can't be dead because I drove around looking for him and never saw him anywhere. I drove around and walked the streets calling for him. Each day later, I realized this didn't feel right because he always came home. My daughter thought maybe he got into a garage and was trapped somewhere. We talked to our neighbors and they all had seen him that day. The last time he was seen was around 4:30.
After searching and calling out since Thursday night, I decided to message my neighbor's daughter. They live out behind us and at one point had several cats in their barn. I sent her a photo of him and she immediately replied, "I think your cat may have been the one dead down the road". She apologized about it and said it was a big black one. She said that it was Thursday in the late afternoon. The irony is that he was on the other street that I can even see from my kitchen window. It's a busy road and though there is a speed limit, people are idiots and fly up and down it.
I sent my daughter over to the area and had her take the picture of him to see if he could be identified. First she called and said it wasn't him, that there was too much white and the areas he had white, there weren't any, like on his chest. At first I was so relieved. But then I'm like the where is Buddy?
She came home and I was still crying. As she stood at the kitchen sink with her back to me, I could tell something wasn't right. I asked her if she lied to me and she said "do you really need to know the truth, mom?" I told her yes that I needed to know if there was ever a chance I would see him again. She then started crying and said, "it was him". My nephew and his neighbor found him and immediately buried him. They didn't want him run over. I guess they both felt bad. But honestly, they did the right thing.
My only sight of him was his back end going out that window. I am never going to see my best friend again. I know he loved me and he knows I loved him because I told him every night. He would then purr and rub his head on mine. What I can't seem to get past is my sadness in missing him. I can't stop crying for very long. My guilt is that I never would have let him out, had I known that this could have happened. I don't know why he was there or how it even happened. Was he on his way home? Did he do this often (go on that street and was lucky every other time) and I didn't know? Seems that I was the only one who never saw him after he went out that window.
He was so full of life. Mia is now going down cellar every chance she gets and hollars for him. It breaks my heart. I know I will get through this eventually, but right now, I just can't stop crying. I miss him so much. The idea of never seeing him again is so painful.
With Meela, I still have a lot of grief & guilt about letting the vet talk me into putting her down, when I didn't need to. WIth Meeka, he had a heart attack right in front of me and there was nothing I could do to save him.
Now Buddy. I just don't know how to keep moving forward. I love him so much. I have been trying to give my other cats undivided attention equally, but they are not the best type of cuddling cats. Buddy was a cuddler. I just feel stuck right now. I want him back. I would give anything to see him for one last time alive..even 5 minutes. I know that the last 26 months were good for both of us. I took him in when he needed a home. In return, he loved me and was very loyal to me. He was such a good cat. He had a humorous side to him, too. I'll never know his age now. I was hoping when I made his appointment to be fixed, that the could give me an idea of how old he was.
I am trying to celebrate his life, but it's not easy. I have to go to my basement to do my laundry and seeing his bed empty kills me. I still feel like I will see him running up the sidewalk, coming home or laying on the front porch - rolling around. I just don't know what to do. What's worse is that he's not even buried here. I can't go to his grave to visit him.
Anyway - thanks for letting me get this in writing.
