I woke up early today to write. It’s currently 5:30 am and I am cozied up on my chaise with coffee, cozy blanket, and cats.
Well, only one cat. I think Abigail is in the bedroom. Oliver is on my thighs with his chubby little butt pressed against my abdomen, though.
I don’t know why this is, but I’ve been thinking about their deaths a lot lately. Oliver is 13, Abigail 14. I know they won’t live forever but they’re both in excellent health except for their respective weight issues. Abigail is too thin and Oliver is too fat. I’ve started giving them more frequent smaller meals rather than intermittent larger ones and monitoring them while they eat so Oliver doesn’t steal Abigail’s food.
Still, though, while I cuddle them and love on them as always, when they gaze adoringly into my eyes and snuggle up against me I think of the day when I’ll have to say goodbye.
It’s something I’ve thought of now and again since adopting each of them. Lately it’s in my head more frequently, and it’s odd.
Perhaps it’s because a friend had to say goodbye to her dog recently and it’s on my mind. Her good boy left the world exactly how I hope my babies will. He was ancient, mostly deaf and I believe mostly blind, and barely able to get himself outside to do his business. And he was loved desperately right up until his last moment, when he was held by his people and reassured while they said goodbye and he drifted to sleep.
I know someday I’ll have to do that for my little loves. I hope that’s how they go. I think of it when they gaze at me with trust and adoration, knowing I’d never hurt either of them and understanding how much I love each of them. I love them so much that someday, I will do that for them.
It’s now 5:45 and I will need to start getting ready for work shortly. There are tears streaming down my face and I’m barely halfway done with my coffee.
I’m not so sure this getting up earlier to write thing is a good idea! Hopefully, I won’t carry this sadness into the day ahead.