We lost a family member yesterday. Our beautiful little Scarlet. I say “lost” but that wouldn’t be the right word, because that would imply that we had a hand in losing you, and that there would be a chance that you could be found. But there is no chance of that happening, so I’ll rather say that you were taken from us yesterday.
You were handed to us yesterday in a plastic packet by a neighbor who said he found you lying on the grass, I’m sorry for that because you aren’t a piece of rubbish and you being put in a bag hurt me more than anything. But I guess what else could he do.
We don’t know whether it was poison or if a car took you, but I hope with all my heart that you didn’t suffer, that you went quickly and with no pain and that you were not scared.
I am not writing this for sympathy, or for anyone else’s benefit besides Dales and mine, in the hopes, and stupidly so, I know, that putting this down on paper and putting it out in the universe, somehow, you’ll hear it, see it, know that when we heard and saw you yesterday that it completely shattered us.
I know a lot of people cannot relate, and when hearing you have lost your pet, they look at your pain and reaction and wonder what’s the fuss about. As if you’ve just misplaced a set of car keys.
But you were much more, you were a member of our family, and you deserve every last tear that we are shedding for you, and there have been a lot, and there still will be. Know that. We feel your loss as if you had been a human family member that we had just lost, there is no distinction in our eyes.
We are completely and utterly devastated, and miss you and all your nonsense so much already.
Sleeping stretched out and horizontal between Dale and I at night, so much so that we haven’t been able to actually spoon each other in the year and a half since you’ve been in our family. And you loved that! Dale spooned you instead of me every night. He would even end up sleeping on the very edge of the bed, with no covers because “I didn’t want to move her, shame she also needs her sleep” - used to infuriate me.
But last night when Dale sat straight up in bed, with his hand on the covers between us and when I asked him what’s wrong, he said “nothing” and lay back down again, but I know he was feeling around for you, and it was the lack of you there and the pain that brought that woke him. And just for that I would never have complained about you hogging the bed ever again if we could just have you back there.
You yelling at me for breakfast in the mornings. Because apparently the louder you shout at me the faster I can get your food in your bowl.
Climbing Dale’s leg when he didn’t give you attention, RIGHT AWAY!
Hiding under the bathroom mat, lying in wait, for one of us, unsuspecting, to walk into the bathroom so you could pounce. FYI: We could always see you, but humoured you anyway.
The way you would cry for us outside pretending to want to come inside but when we opened the door you’d always make us beg, or come out and literally FETCH you like a real little madam!
You were our boss, typical cat.
Dale carried your collar in his pocket the whole day yesterday, and hid your favourite ball when he got home because he couldn’t bear to look at it.
I couldn’t close the window you jumped in because, what if, what if we’d made a horrible mistake, how would you get in?
Know that that is what you meant to us, how much we loved you. You were never just a pet to us.
You were a good cat, the sweetest little thing and I hope that in the year and half that we had you, that you had an awesome life.