A year ago today, I lost my first furbaby.
For a year, I distanced myself from emotion. This month has been very tender for me as her anniversary approached. Time has made the loss bearable. I’m ready to process it, but it hurts. I’m quick to tears.
I miss her. I’m so grateful she came to teach and love me. I love her so much! She was the sweetest little black magicat, the funniest big fat belly cat, and a very gentle soul.
I’m not hearing crickets in the summer nightsong yet, like I did last year when she left. Strangely, that seems to be the thing that causes the most anxiety, but I know why. She’s come to me in profound and reassuring dreams. I know I can feel her, but I’m scared that will fade. If I can’t hear crickets, will I stop hearing her?
Her sister is still with me. I don’t think I could have survived losing Cricket without her. Penny is my best friend. Cricket was my baby.
“Good-bye, honey. Be very bad! I’ll never know.”