My dad filmed our cats for hours when we were growing upÂ
(Source)
I smiled at this, but it made me incredibly sad at the same time. Made me think of all the pets I've lost and buried, it made me think of the early mornings with Muffy when I was 8 and had just learned how to cook eggs, made me think of sitting with Garfield after we found out she had cancer, I thought about Chester when we found him time and time again sucking a blanket, but we never found him again, and Maisey, originally my brothers cat but I adopted her after he left home, she would sneak into my room and crawl under the blankets on cold nights, I'd leave my door just open enough for her to sneak through, I thought about Cleo, my beautiful girl, and the ward of women she had taken to visiting, crying with them as they told us how she loved each one of them, I thought about Gizmo, and how he was the goofy leader of our small pack, how smart he looked in his bow tie, I thought about Tubbington, how tight we held him, how much we loved him, because he was our first cat who would purposefully snuggle back, and Ezio, my good Buddy, how fierce he is in defending his turf, and his food.
I thought about each pet I've had the honor of living with, and mourn for each one I've buried, and hope that the ones who ran away were found and cared for, loved until their last, peaceful moment.
And those who were taken from me, and hope that we made them feel as though their lives were worth living
