And now he is gone. Wiggum passed away last night around 3:45am. The clinic called us and told us that his little heart stopped beating and it was done.
I sobbed, and sobbed. I know it's a cat, and I almost feel foolish, but honestly I loved that animal. Loved him. And I feel loss.
It came so unexpected. When we returned from Denver on Sunday I did not notice anything unusual, and I certainly would never have guessed that I would be writing this post on Thursday.
I feel drained, exhausted and like crawling back to bed. But it's a cat. Life doesn't stop for the death of a pet.
Am I crazy? Is this normal?
I miss you Wiggum. I wish that I knew this was coming so I could have held you in my arms more this past week, so that I could feel your soft body and know that you felt me. That last night, you weren't really there. Your eyes were vacant and you did not purr when you lied beside me. That wasn't you. I didn't get to say goodbye to you. My kitty.