So, yeah. The title says it all. My cat died. And the feeling? Just… empty. It’s a weird kind of quiet in the house now. One I’m not used to and really don’t like. I keep thinking I hear him, you know? Like a little meow from the other room, or the jingle of his collar that’s not even there anymore. It’s been a few days, and it just hits you at random times.
It wasn’t like one of those sudden things, which I guess is both good and bad. For a while, I’d been noticing he wasn’t quite himself. He started losing weight, which was the first big red flag for me. My little guy always loved his food. Then he got real tired, all the time. Just wanted to sleep. And he started hiding more. Used to be he’d always be underfoot, or demanding attention. Towards the end, I’d find him tucked away in the back of the closet, or under the bed. Just wanted to be alone, I guess.
We did the whole vet thing, multiple times. They ran all sorts of tests. Got some medicine. For a little bit, I thought, okay, maybe he’s gonna rally. You always hope, right? But then the vet sat me down and basically said, look, there’s not much more we can do. He was old. His body was just… giving out. That was a tough conversation. You feel so damn helpless.
Those last few days were pretty rough. Just trying to keep him comfortable. Making sure he knew he was loved. I read somewhere that cats can kinda sense when it’s their time, or at least they know something is seriously wrong. And looking back, I think he did. There was this look in his eyes. He wasn’t really fighting it anymore. He was just… tired. So, so tired.
And now, this. This emptiness. It’s like a hole in my daily routine. No more tripping over him in the morning when I go to make coffee. No more purring furball on my lap while I’m trying to watch TV. It’s the little things, mostly, that just punch you in the gut. The silence is the loudest thing in the house. People who don’t have pets, they might not get it. They might think, “it’s just a cat.” But it’s not, is it? It’s like this little soul you shared your life with. They say it’s a real attachment, almost like a kid. And yeah, I get that now. It truly hurts.
I keep looking at his favorite spot on the sofa. It’s just empty. His food bowls are washed and put away. I haven’t been able to bring myself to move his bed yet. It just sits there. A reminder. I guess this feeling will fade over time, or at least change. That’s what everyone says. But right now, it’s just this big, hollow feeling. And I miss my little buddy like crazy. Just wanted to put this out there, I guess. Part of the process, or something.
