Cat.

I know I didn't write about it here before. It was just too painful and even somewhat embarrassing to say that I gave up my sweet baby earlier this year. He was my sunshine, even when he was dumping every cup of water we put out for him. I think he knew what was coming.

Sure enough, my parents were forced to leave their costly home and move to a more manageable place near my mom's work. It was a good thing, but it meant sacrifice for Stephen and I. As soon as I heard, I applied to every pet-friendly apartment available. I tenaciously scanned KSL every day so I could have the possibility of being with the cat I'd raised since he was weaned. But everything was falling through. It had been a rough winter, and the pattern didn't stop with him.

Because he hated car rides and would become terrifyingly anxious, I could only bear to make him suffer the shortest ride possible, and that was the local animal shelter. I bawled through the whole process. He was so scared. I still feel guilt about how he must have felt. He was always a loving, loyal cat to me. Maybe not always obedient, but he was loving beyond belief, and just as neurotic as his momma. Yet here I was, handing him off to strangers so they could keep him in a lonely cage surrounded by other abandoned cats. I often wonder if he hates me now.

I wonder if he's happy now. His picture was never on the site, so he must've gotten adopted out right away. Everyone said he would. He's a beautiful, unique cat. The people there all promised, a few times, that they'd take great care of him. Perhaps one of them adopted him. I told them he was the best cat.

I still love that cat, and my heart breaks every day he's not with me.