JulesR

I lost my beautiful girl in May and I thought no other cat could replace her. She was 17 years old and my best friend. It's now September and I've decided it's time for more cats in my life. I think it would be a shame if we only gave our love to one individual, there are so many beautiful souls out there who need us. I'm sure that if there is a heaven, she's sat somewhere sunny and warm, well fed, sleepy and content, looking down on me, happy to pass on the baton to the next generation. I think that when we choose to offer a home to a new cat, we don't shut the door in our hearts on the ones we lost, we just make room for another. If you feel like you are ready for another, then go for it. It doesn't have to be him. He was special in only the way he could be, but another cat can be special too, it doesn't take away anything of what you felt for him. She was my first loss as an adult too, but it comforts me to know that, if it was such a big loss, then it must have been pretty wonderful, and it was, and I'm grateful for that. Welcome the next generation. Good luck to you, and I am so very sorry for your loss xx

Fancy looks so lovely and polite! Onion used to have the same look when she was hungry, she'd also sit on the living room floor and stare at me, then every time I glanced at her she used to chirp. I love black cats, and if I ever have another, I want an all- black one, they seem to get overlooked a lot and it's sad. I don't think my heart could cope with another Tuxedo cat, there's one who lives nearby that looks a lot like her and it hurts to see it. Did Fancy have any more (nick)names? Mine had many, not all of them repeatable in polite company..... I know what you mean about it being the most difficult experience of your life, I feel that too. I'd lost both parents by the time I was in my twenties, and this seems so much harder, probably because I shared nearly every day of 17 years with her.

This was her typical 'I love you but I'm hungry, so please feed me' strategy. Oddly enough, it worked a treat.

Thanks for all the kind words and sweet empathy even though this is not my post I really didn't mean to hijack it. But as it's a bit late to start one of my own, I'll blunder onwards here if that's okay? I've been better this last week. I had a bit of a blip today though when I received a card from the vet. Inside were some Forget-me-not seeds, which I intend to plant, and sit them on the window sill by her favourite snoozing place. It bought quite a few tears throughout this day. She loved the sunshine, and it bought out the shades of chocolate in her beautiful black fur. I like to consider myself a practical person, and my cat was my cat, and I was her owner (as much as one can 'own' a cat), she wasn't my baby, though we each have our own relationships with these remarkable animals, we all take what we need and hopefully give as much in return, and all of these relationships are precious, whatever they are. Anyway, enough about my sorrow. My heart goes out to you and the loss of your sweet Fancy. Such small creatures have such a massive impact and I feel your loss, every tear stained second of it. I hope you can ride out this awful storm and find peaceful waters and warm memories that comfort, rather than hurt. xxx If you can see the pic, this is Onion, my awful storm. Much loved and so painfully missed. I thought I'd lost this but so glad I found it:

I still have her carrier in the dining room, with her name on it, and I cry whenever I look at it. I'll never forget her lovely eyes looking to me for comfort as we sat in the vet's waiting room on the day she died, rubbing her face against my hand through the bars. I still have her litter box because it has her paw marks in it and I can't bear to get rid of it. I still have her water bowl in the spare room where she loved to sunbathe by the window. The water has nearly evaporated and it breaks my heart. Crying doesn't help any more, it isn't enough.

I know exactly what you're going through. I lost my beautiful girl on May 7th and I still can't believe it's happened. She was so intimately woven into the fabric of my life, I wonder how it can still BE my life without her. This monstrous, enormous grief is so big I think my mind will only let me see glimpses of it. These glimpses slay me and stop me in my tracks. I've come to hate my memory, for forgetting that she's gone, because every time I remember, it's like losing her again.