Goodnight My King. I miss my kitty.....

My cat, Louie had to be put to sleep a few weeks back, January 12th to be exact. He was eleven. I miss him terribly and still cry about him. But he was one of my first friends and I deem it perfectly normal to cry over a lost pet. I sobbed when the morning came. I couldn't see it possible that in a few hours he would be gone from this world. I held him for two hours straight, telling him how much I love him, of all the memories, everything.

The night before he died I couldn't look at him, he was so weak, all that fluid in his stomach, my poor King was dying. But I did hold him for a while and cried. But when I watched t.v something made me laugh, he meowed. I kept walking over to him every time he did meow.

And every time I laughed, he meowed. And I think I opened my mind then, I think I forgot the fact he was not human, I opened my mind to another being, another soul. And the message I received was just this "Don't ever stop smiling, never stop laughing, I love it when you do."

I broke down crying again, asking him to please try to fight it and stay here. I told him how I was supposed to college with him, how he was supposed to sit in my lap as I typed papers. I asked him who else was going to stay up late and do homework with me. I asked him who was going to lay by me when I'm sick.

But I know it was selfish of me to think such thoughts....

By morning he couldn't lift his head. He tried but didn't have the strength, his head shaking as he lowered it to the ground in what seemed like a sense of failure. He ate a piece of turkey from me, he wouldn't eat from anyone elses' hands.

I sat there for two whole hours, telling him to wait for me up there, or where ever it is we go when a soul leaves this world. He only purred when I brushed him. It was his time.

In the car he was too weak to adjust himself so he would meow in pain and I would try so hard to adjust him so he was comfortable, my tears kept falling on him. He hated water, so I tried not to cry on him either. Again in the car, I had time with him. My father let me alone and I cried even harder.

I told him how I was so honored to have grown up with him, and that he would always be king of the street, the toughest cat out there. I told him no cat could ever compare to him, the lion of the great Lanfair Circle (my street). I asked him if he was sure this was it...I tried so hard to open my mind to him again in desperation. But there was no message, none at least that seemed to come from my mind at least.

It wasn't like the night's before when I had received it so loud and clear. So I knew either my emotions were in the way or he didn't want me to hear him anymore, didn't want to share his thoughts.

They gave him a sedative first...he refused to close his eyes. I cried more, silently, then asked him to please just do it. He didn't until the pink stuff was in him...he looked me in the eyes and my last words to him where "Goodnight, sweet King," I petted his eyes with my thumbs, like I always did when I wanted him to sleep.

And he did.

He was so still after wards. His head laying limp on the floor, not proudly like the Sphinx, or on his paws like a dog, but on the floor of the table. It seemed so wrong.

So utterly wrong of him. That's when I knew he was gone.

I miss him so much. I cried the entire time I typed this, but it feels good to do so. I miss you Louie, and I always will.