The first 24 hours has just passed without my 18 year old cat I had since he was born. âAgonyâ doesnât cut it. The house and yard seem barren and too quiet. And he spent his whole life worshipping me, sensing when I was unhappy, crying or sick. For most of his life, it was just us two. There is no one to come immediately to me and purr on me to make me feel better now. I know they say making this call is burying a sword in your own chest to take their pain onto yourself, and thatâs true, but god this pain it is no joke.
He loved sitting and sleeping on top of me, getting attention, cheese, tuna, sparkly pom pom balls, being under the christmas tree, hiding in crazy places, eating, wheat grass, looking out the window, sitting on the patio and exploring the bushes. He was afraid of vacuums, car trips and trash bags being opened. He hated being alone.
He was so innocent and pure of heart. Itâs not fair that he had to go. I miss my Bigo.



















