Today, I lost my little friend.

I often see the phrase ‘I have no words‘ written after the death of someone important. I have plenty of words. Hundreds.

From that very first day when she pushed against my hand at the RSPCA centre she has been a huge support in my life, the only constant that has been with me for thirteen years. She’s seen me through my graduation, she sat on my lap when I typed up applications for job interviews and she celebrated with me when I got them, she was there when I began new relationships, she was there when they ended, she was there during the highest and lowest points of my life. She has moved house with me six times, taking every move in her little stride. We’ve seen in countless New Years, birthdays and Christmas’s together. She would chase me around the house with her stuffed toys, her eyes growing wider just before she was about to pounce. She was there when my family broke apart.

She was there.

When others have judged me, insulted me, put me down and dismissed me, she has been the one thing that has never failed to greet me after a bad day and show me unconditional love. Every night, as I got into bed, she would lay on me and give me a kiss goodnight before retiring to her own little bed in the corner of my room. If I cried, she would jump up and push her head against mine. She was always an independent soul and made it perfectly clear when she wanted to be left alone (I have the scars to prove it) and right to the very end her feisty nature and her hatred of the other cats never waned. She was funny, she had a quirky little personality and could never quite establish a normal miaow, instead creating something that resembled more of a squeak. Her presence allowed me the confidence to feel safe on my own in the house at night. She was my little safety net in times of darkness, and made the happy times seem so much brighter.

Some may role their eyes and proclaim that she was ‘just a cat.’ To me, she wasn’t just a cat, she was my company, my confidante, my family and at times she was my only friend.

She was there. She was mine.

I was with her in her last moments. At the age of nineteen I know that she had a good life, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I did everything I could for her and I know that she was happy and loved, but I wish that I could turn back the clock and live it all over again with her. I want to bring her home and protect her. I want to feed her, play with her, cuddle up with her, talk to her.

What I don’t know is how I am possibly going to do the rest without her.

Goodbye, my little friend. I’ll miss you forever.

You can also find me on Twitter and Tumblr @suzie81blog

Thank you so much for all the comments of support that I have received since publishing this post… Your messages have made me smile, made me cry and are helping me to come to terms with things.