One year ago today.
We miss you. We miss your sweet smile, the way only cats smile, when we came home each night. We miss how you rallied up the troops and greeted us at the door with love. We miss how you wanted to be next to us, how you loved to be near us. We miss your big moon eyes.
I really miss each morning when I awake. I no longer am greeted by you or any of the other cats left behind. You were always first, you lead the way, you made sure that we knew you loved us too.
I also really miss how you were on mouse alert at all times. You wouldn't even let a chipmunk pass our threshold without pouncing on him immediately. You played with the little creatures, even when you were sickest, and then you made sure to keep us safe from them. And often, you laid those little buggers at my feet, a gift from you, the sweetest, most genuinely loving cat I have ever known.
Please know that every now and then, out of the blue, Oliver tells me how much he misses you.
And please know that in Oliver's eyes, and in mine too in many ways, you are still alive, but that you are with the Doctor until you get better. Oliver knows and believes he will see you again, and I promise him he will, so please don't disappoint.
When anyone asks Oliver how many cats we have, he always says three, as he still continues to count you in as one of our beloved pets.
We miss you dearly,
Andrea (and Oliver)