I've become somewhat used to not seeing her anymore.
I still look over to her favourite spot on the sofa and say "Hey Socksy". I still hear her little chirpy response and I go and touch her fur thats still on the sofa.
And at night "night night Socks", and I stroke the bridge of her nose on the little memorial Emily made.
She's with me and importantly, I feel I'm still with her.
This routine feels pretty normal to me now. I know I won't see her beautiful little face on the sofa, and it's no longer a surprise.
But in these moments, I start to think about the things I didn't do while she was alive.
When did I last give her some tuna?
When did I last play string with her?
When was our last cuddle?
It's easy to feel guilty but the truth is, all our cats have always been able to express themselves, the house doors are almost always open and any one of them could just up and leave if they wanted. They never do.
And it's easy to fall into a trap of wishing "if only I'd put her in that place", "if only I'd given her that food", "If only I stayed home instead of going to that meeting".
None of it matters. We made a home that respects all our animals decisions. If she wanted to sleep on my bed and not the sofa, she'd have gone there.
if she wanted food, she'd have told me, like she did thousands of times during our time together.
It feels like I'm making progress. I'm thinking with a strong sense of appreciation. The big thoughts have been processed, perhaps.
And I got a nice message from a colleague at work. Finally. I kind of knew their silence was probably due to absence, they're nice people after all. But it really made me feel good that someone Socks never met, said something nice about her.
Clever cat :-)
I still look over to her favourite spot on the sofa and say "Hey Socksy". I still hear her little chirpy response and I go and touch her fur thats still on the sofa.
And at night "night night Socks", and I stroke the bridge of her nose on the little memorial Emily made.
She's with me and importantly, I feel I'm still with her.
This routine feels pretty normal to me now. I know I won't see her beautiful little face on the sofa, and it's no longer a surprise.
But in these moments, I start to think about the things I didn't do while she was alive.
When did I last give her some tuna?
When did I last play string with her?
When was our last cuddle?
It's easy to feel guilty but the truth is, all our cats have always been able to express themselves, the house doors are almost always open and any one of them could just up and leave if they wanted. They never do.
And it's easy to fall into a trap of wishing "if only I'd put her in that place", "if only I'd given her that food", "If only I stayed home instead of going to that meeting".
None of it matters. We made a home that respects all our animals decisions. If she wanted to sleep on my bed and not the sofa, she'd have gone there.
if she wanted food, she'd have told me, like she did thousands of times during our time together.
It feels like I'm making progress. I'm thinking with a strong sense of appreciation. The big thoughts have been processed, perhaps.
And I got a nice message from a colleague at work. Finally. I kind of knew their silence was probably due to absence, they're nice people after all. But it really made me feel good that someone Socks never met, said something nice about her.
Clever cat :-)