Goodbye, my dear, sweet Chevey-boy. You went to sleep today while I held and kissed you. You are no longer in pain and, if there is kitty-heaven, you can jump high and chase belled feather toys forever. And should we meet again, you can roll on the floor and bonk your head in greeting, and we can play another game of peek-a-boo – and you will win, as always. The joy of having had you in my life will soon relieve the deep sadness I now feel for having lost you. Sleep well, my sweet, sweet boy.
I miss him so much.
I haven’t had time to miss him, yet. I’m too wrapped up in my own sadness.
Today is different, and I woke up crying. I keep experiencing “hits” to my emotions, both expected and unexpected, in normal, day-to-day life. In other words, I keep expecting to see him sitting in the bedroom doorway, or howling when I come through the side door. This will take a while. I guess I’ve never been as affected by a pet, ever in my life.