Four months ago, I was the lucky fur mom to two, beautiful fur babies. Both somehow ended up with cancer within months of each other, and both were taken from me too soon: Kodi on May 3, and Miko on August 23. These were my first cats, first fur babies, first true loves, and now sadly, first true heartbreaks.
The minute I got my own apartment I knew I’d share my home with an animal that needed one. Within weeks of moving in, I took a trip to the Humane Society. There, this tiny, little 8-week old black and white kitten immediately stole my heart. I looked into his little eyes, and that was it - I was his. My Kodi.
A few months later, a friend told me about a kitten that a local independent cat rescue couldn’t find a home for. Since he was the last of a feral colony that was rescued, nobody seemed to want him. He was about four months old, grey and white with long hair. He needed a home, Kodi needed a brother, and I had more love to give. My Miko.
The bond that Kodi and I had was special. He was my constant companion, whether I was in the kitchen cooking dinner, watching TV, or even while I was trying to relax in the bathtub (give me a drink, Mom!). He always seemed to somehow know exactly when I needed kisses or a cuddle. My special buddy.
Miko was a gorgeous cat, and probably the biggest lover I have ever seen a cat be. Any time anyone sat down on the couch, there was Miko, on their lap demanding pets. It wasn’t that we didn’t give him enough attention; no, he just couldn’t get enough. It didn’t matter who it was, either; the message was always clear – PET ME! And while you’re at it, be sure to scratch – yup, right there. Riiiight there…
Twelve short years later, and here I sit with a broken heart and steady stream of tears. They came into my life and my heart just months apart, and that’s how they left me.
Thank you both for every minute of love, for every purr, cuddle, kiss, and comfort. Thank you for making me laugh, and teaching me the true meaning of unconditional love. Thank you even for annoying the crap out of me, and trying to kill me when going down the stairs. Thank you. Thank you for ruining my favourite pair of pants when you locked yourself into the bedroom with no litter box and needed a place to poop. For covering every single thing I own with cat fur, and my subsequent need to purchase stock in sticky rollers. For waking me up in the middle of the night, just because you felt like it. Thank you for crawling into my lap when I was sad to give me comfort; for greeting me at the door every day after work. For curling up and sleeping with me, being my own personal “Cat Hat” in the night, even if I woke up covered in sweat and fur. For making me smile every single day. Every. Single. Day.
Now, the house feels so empty. There are no paws pitter-pattering across the floor to let me know I’m not alone; no meows or purrs to break the silence. No more cold, wet noses nudging me to scratch harder, or warm, soft fur under my fingers.
I’m sorry that I failed you. I was supposed to protect you and take care of you. That you both got sick within months of each other clearly means I did something wrong. I’m so very sorry, my poor babies.
I miss you both more than words can describe; my heart is in pieces right now. I wouldn’t change it, though. If this broken heart means you once filled it to the brim with love, happiness, and joy, then it was worth it.
Thank you, Kodi and Miko. I’ll love you forever and ever.
The minute I got my own apartment I knew I’d share my home with an animal that needed one. Within weeks of moving in, I took a trip to the Humane Society. There, this tiny, little 8-week old black and white kitten immediately stole my heart. I looked into his little eyes, and that was it - I was his. My Kodi.
A few months later, a friend told me about a kitten that a local independent cat rescue couldn’t find a home for. Since he was the last of a feral colony that was rescued, nobody seemed to want him. He was about four months old, grey and white with long hair. He needed a home, Kodi needed a brother, and I had more love to give. My Miko.
The bond that Kodi and I had was special. He was my constant companion, whether I was in the kitchen cooking dinner, watching TV, or even while I was trying to relax in the bathtub (give me a drink, Mom!). He always seemed to somehow know exactly when I needed kisses or a cuddle. My special buddy.
Miko was a gorgeous cat, and probably the biggest lover I have ever seen a cat be. Any time anyone sat down on the couch, there was Miko, on their lap demanding pets. It wasn’t that we didn’t give him enough attention; no, he just couldn’t get enough. It didn’t matter who it was, either; the message was always clear – PET ME! And while you’re at it, be sure to scratch – yup, right there. Riiiight there…
Twelve short years later, and here I sit with a broken heart and steady stream of tears. They came into my life and my heart just months apart, and that’s how they left me.
Thank you both for every minute of love, for every purr, cuddle, kiss, and comfort. Thank you for making me laugh, and teaching me the true meaning of unconditional love. Thank you even for annoying the crap out of me, and trying to kill me when going down the stairs. Thank you. Thank you for ruining my favourite pair of pants when you locked yourself into the bedroom with no litter box and needed a place to poop. For covering every single thing I own with cat fur, and my subsequent need to purchase stock in sticky rollers. For waking me up in the middle of the night, just because you felt like it. Thank you for crawling into my lap when I was sad to give me comfort; for greeting me at the door every day after work. For curling up and sleeping with me, being my own personal “Cat Hat” in the night, even if I woke up covered in sweat and fur. For making me smile every single day. Every. Single. Day.
Now, the house feels so empty. There are no paws pitter-pattering across the floor to let me know I’m not alone; no meows or purrs to break the silence. No more cold, wet noses nudging me to scratch harder, or warm, soft fur under my fingers.
I’m sorry that I failed you. I was supposed to protect you and take care of you. That you both got sick within months of each other clearly means I did something wrong. I’m so very sorry, my poor babies.
I miss you both more than words can describe; my heart is in pieces right now. I wouldn’t change it, though. If this broken heart means you once filled it to the brim with love, happiness, and joy, then it was worth it.
Thank you, Kodi and Miko. I’ll love you forever and ever.