So, my cat died last Monday. Or rather, I chose to have him put down because he was suffering. But we maybe could have helped him a bit longer. I dunno. Did I do the right thing? I am not dealing with it well. I have literally been offline all week and haven’t seen any messages, tweets, or other crises except tea orders. Thank you most sincerely to everyone who sent kind words privately or otherwise. I still have coursework deadlines. So I won’t be doing much social media stuff for a while except in pursuit of work, sorry.
He was my wee buddy. For almost 11 years he followed me everywhere as I went about the house (and I worked from home a lot), stuck around longer than all my relationships, and slept on the end of the bed every night. I feel like a limb is missing, to be honest. Every tiny noise sounds like him, until I realise it isn’t. Over and over and over again. I dug a grave, and pushed cold earth over his wee face, and that’s all I see when I close my eyes. Every night I just want to go to the back door and let him in from the cold, miserable night outside. I am not okay.