Good-bye little friend

Well, my eighteen year relationship with a good friend is over. Not by choice, of course, but by necessity. She couldn't go on any longer, and I understand that. We had a good run though, from what I hear, most cats don't make it to 18.5 years as she did.

She picked her time well, and when people say that someone or something chose as good a time as any to die, I now know what they mean. Our house had been on the market 3 days when she died. We had our first "showing" the day after she died. I know she'd have hated to have people she didn't know rooting through her "area" and interrupting sleeping/eating/grooming routines.

We miss her, but the ones that miss her the most are me....and the dog. They didn't seem to be very good friends or bitter enemies, and they had their spats, particularly over the dog's food which she would occasionally snitch while the dish was being prepared. Since she died however, the dog has been moping around, sleeping more than usual, and generally looking distressed. We've been trying to make more of her, with extra pets, treats, and walks, but she knows something has happened even if she can't define it.

Who'd have thunk that a little cat could make me feel so humble? She liked everyone in the house but she out and out adored me, and followed me around like a dog. I often joked that I should have named her Shadow, for she was mine. Cats are very choosy (we've had 3 and all had their favorites) and I still don't know why she thought so much of me. Even at the very end, the night before she died, she was sitting on my husband's lap, so she could watch me and every time I got up to do something, she tried to follow even though the legs weren't working hardly at all.

I feel as though I let her down at the end, probably because I couldn't bear the thought of the inevitable and I waited too long to bring her to the vet so she could be put to sleep. By the time I recognized her imminent death and called for an appointment on the last day, she was going too fast. I got home early from work and she was in a coma and died at home an hour later. I wondered if she had waited for me to get home.

For the first time in 19 years, I don't have a cat. There is a hole in my life but I can't get a cat until I sell my house and move. Cats hate moving (ask mine who moved 5 times in the first 4 years I had them) and I don't want to get a new one until I am settled in a new place. I will get another cat though, I am a self-described "cat person" and my husband always refers to the fact that I, with my innate curiosity, am pretty much like a cat.

While I know I will love any new cat that comes into my life, I am acutely aware that there will never be another like the one I just lost. So, thank you little friend for your love and companionship and know that I treasured every minute of it all.