The Hardest Days

Are when I have to say goodbye to my baby cat. It was a horrifically hard day.

My Rose passed away today. It’s been a rough week, because we set up the appointment on Monday, after her kidneys started failing on Sunday night. But she’s comfortable and now there is no worry that she might be in pain or uncomfortable. My one consolation is that she had a wonderful life, spoiled beyond all belief by my mom and I.

She’s been a spunky, sweet, cuddly kitty all this time. She’s been with me from the time I was 6 years old, and she’s helped me through some of the most difficult times in my life. She was there through heartbreaks, through abuse, and through my figuring out just who I was after going away to college. She’s been my rock and the one constant throughout all the hectic upheavals till now. And I know that she’s going to keep an eye on me.

Rose was a sweetheart, and loved to cuddle with me in the mornings in bed. And she loved cheese, would always have more room in her little stomach for cheese-treats, or fish-treats if you would give it to her. She was a good kitty that always would purr and greet me with head bunting and lots of purring and kisses when I came home. I’m going to miss her most dearly.

She had a good, long life: 19 years, 8 months, and 3 days.

She was my kitty-companion for: 19 years, 6 months, and 3 days.





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I'm a bibliophile who loves collecting books. Definite cat person. Amateur historian and major geek, who loves all things Tolkien and Star Trek. I'm also fluent in German.

3 thoughts on “The Hardest Days

  1. Reblogged this on The Slavic Polytheist and commented:

    The first anniversary is the hardest, I think. (First birthday after she died, first anniversary of the date we brought her home–and now first anniversary of her death) Today is a day for taking it easy, remembering my dearly loved fur-baby, and being thankful for my new fur-baby who reminds me how much cats are love.


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