Thank you all for giving me a place to come.
In September 2018 my Skeeter passed. The pain is still so real.
Skeeter came to us as a 6 week old kitten who was found in a paper bag in a parking lot. He instantly become my baby. As a little guy he would sleep curled up on my left shoulder. Even as an adult he would try to sleep on my shoulder. Early on Skeeter learned to "give Mommy a kiss" by headbutting me on the chin so I could kiss the top of his head. He always knew when I was sad and stay right with me. If I hurt (like when I broke my wrist) he was right there watching over me. I'll never forget when I had surgery and every time I woke up from resting he was laying above me on the headboard; sometimes asleep but often just watching me.
There was nothing better than watching him play and play and play then fall asleep where he stopped. And the way he used to wrestle with the furbrother Jackson! It sounded like there were going to crash through the floor. And he loved being outside in the yard (fenced yard and always supervised). He would run and play then find a shady spot, usually under one of my flowers, to sleep.
But he got sick. His wonderful heart started not working right. When the time came to help him on his journey to the Rainbow Bridge I was devastated. It felt like my heart was being torn from my chest. I'd lost other cats before (two earlier the same year) and each time it hurt. But not like when Skeet passed. It's been 2 1/2 years. I still feel like there is something missing. Yesterday I cried for him again. For two hours I sobbed. And all I could think was if Skeeter was there he would have let me bury my face in his fur and just cry. But he wasn't there. He was the one I was crying over.
I have other cats. Actually 6 of them. And I love them all. But none have seemed to fill the hole in my heart. I can't stop missing him. I can't stop wishing I could hold his paw again while we fell asleep at night. I can't stop feeling like a part of me is gone.
Thank you for listening.
