R.I.P.Murka.
2003-2009.
My cat Murka died on Wednesday, October 21, found in my neighbour's yard by my parents. Nobody bothered to tell me, and I didn't notice until yesterday.
She was an outdoor cat, and we're pretty sure it was poison that killed her. There was no blood, so pesticides or eating some contaminated mouse is the generally accepted idea.
2009 has been about loss for me.
Loss. Adjustment. Moving on but never wanting to.
And now, as the cherry on the cake, the world took my baby away from me.
My best friend.
Who's going to take up meow at ungodly hours in the morning until I let her in to sleep on the bottom half of my bed?
Who's going to take up 3/4s of my bed and leave me trying to sleep in an uncomfortable curled-up position?
Who's going to leave grey cat hair over all my black sweaters, usually right before I need to wear them?
Who's going to sleep beside me and purr when I'm sick or feeling horrible?
Who's going to be irritated at me when I forget to feed her or refill her water dish?
Who's going to bring back headless bunnies and leave them in the backyard so I trip over them and shriek like a banshee?
Who's going to meow and nudge me every time I start yelling to quiet down?
Who's going to run out of my room every time I play Rammstein or my guitar too loud?
Who's going to give me the most innocent look after she's done something wrong so I can never really be mad at her?
Who's going to put up with my baby talk and the hundreds of names I've called her over the years, ranging from Fuzzy, Fuzzface, Murkie, Kittycat, and cutie pie?
Who's ever going to have the 'O' pattern in her stripes and the 'M' on her forehead?
I didn't take any pictures of you and I together because I never thought I'd need to. And now I miss you more than anything I ever missed before.
Now all I have left is photographs and memories.
Now all I have left is photographs and memories.
Memories that I'm so scared I'll lose, because you meant everything to me.
It didn't matter to you how tired I was, or how irritable, or how horrible I looked that day, you loved me regardless.
I didn't even notice you were gone for good until 4 days after. I'm a horrible human being and you loved me anyways.
What I hate the most is that I didn't get to say goodbye.
What I hate the most is that I didn't get to say goodbye.
I hope that your 6 years on earth with us were happy and good, regardless of how many squirrels and neighbourhood miniature poodles you terrorized.
I can cry for the next months straight and give myself a huge headache and it will never bring you back.
I promise I'll never try to put a harness and leash on you again.
I'd give anything to have you back.
You'll be in my heart.
Always.
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