With Or Without Fur

Today I'm super sad, because my Meeks died unexpectedly last night.

She has been so loving lately, so it has left a big hole in my heart;

I already miss her deep-throated purr, a sound I find so soothing.

We actually got her as a therapy cat during recovery from my head-on collision twelve years ago. She was a rescue who needed a furever home, and I was a wreck who needed rescuing. We created a win-win, which was sometimes a love-hate relationship, because I wanted a lap cat but she was much too independent for said lap.

But recently she's been tolerating lap time, dare I say enjoying it?

So last night, when I went to pick her up from the rug for some good old-fashioned snuggling, and she didn't protest, she didn't say no, she just let me, I knew something was off. I told John she wasn't breathing, and he tried to wake her up, but she was unresponsive. She had died on the floor by my couch, while we watched Tracker on television together. 💔

We wrapped her in her favorite blankie and checked on her a few times throughout the night to make sure she was really gone. 

Just in case we got it wrong. 

Wishing we had gotten it wrong. 

This morning, we called our vet and arranged her cremation.

This broke me as we waited in line to pay. 

The girl behind the counter was incredibly compassionate

as those healing tears streamed down my face.

Know what I learned from my time with my quiet companion?

Be curious and encourage your kids to follow suit.

Curiosity is contagious ... and it's very freeing!

I also learned that relaxing is important. I took this picture on Friday,

when she was in my spot and I really wanted needed her to move,

because that's where my heating pad is plugged in.

She resisted. There wasn't much I could do to move her.

She taught me to stand my ground, that when I believe in something,

that I am where I feel like I belong, to stay there, to get comfortable

in who I am, where I am, in the skin I'm in.

Meeks used to be quite anxious; she was a top-tier mower.

But her beautiful fur had grown back in these past few years.

It was such a gift to experience her come into her own.

I learned to love her for who she is,

not for who I wanted her to be

or even for who she might become.

Because time is non-refundable, and

we just never know when ours is up.

It truly doesn't matter whether our fur is

perfectly groomed or partially chewed off.

Beauty is, after all, in the eye of the beholder.

And Meeka was a beauty, no question.

Inside and out.

With and without fur.

The house sure feels empty now, without this sweet sissy by my side.