His name was Jackson.
It's been 2 months now.
I can't even describe the emptiness I feel.
I miss pressing my cheek into the soft fur on the top of his head when I hugged him.
He hated looking at the camera and I'm pretty sure he hated modeling my crochet projects too, but he did it anyway because he loved me.
He was so proud of his yellow felted necklace. He was right there beside me when I made it for him.
His claws were always a little too long because he hated having them trimmed and he hated a bath even more. I had to cover the wall of the shower with chipped ham just to get him in there.
I held onto him for a month longer than I should have, feeding him pain medicine twice a day.
I knew I was being selfish, but the thought of letting him go was killing me.
I miss his bowl of water on the porch.
I miss his bed in the corner and his basket of toys.
I miss our walks together.
I miss him hogging the couch and
the look he gave me when I made him wear a hat.
I miss his long yoga toes and how they smelled like popcorn and socks.
There's a huge hole in my life now. My days are so quiet.
I've found some comfort in knowing that my boy isn't suffering any more, but my heart is broken.
I was lucky to have him with me for over 10 years.
The memories of those 10 years will live in my heart forever.