I rescued Amos when I was 17 and my toddler niece was carrying her around in a headlock. My sister is a fucking retard who thinks that babies and kittens mix well, and is surprised when the kittens die. Anyways.... I fed this savagely offended ball of talons and fluff chunks of the Big Mac I was eating at the time, and, as any true apex predator would, she promptly stole and devoured the whole thing. She stole my heart with her tiny little warning growls when I tried to fight her off of it. It was twice as big as she was. She ate it anyways.
Amos was a good cat. She was a korat, and her breed's defining characteristic was that she intensely bonded with her owner. Have you ever had a creature who detested everyone else on earth but you? You feel like you're in a Black Beauty adaptation.
She got me through the trials of teenagerdom and young adulthood. We grew up together. She was more of a roommate than a pet, and she loved to listen to my horrible singing. Her pupils would grow enormous and she'd always purr like crazy.
In my twenties, my family started dropping like flies to cancer, and my husband was caught with his dick in a cumdumpster. My life fell apart. The one constant was my cat. When I would cry, she always comforted me. When I contemplated suicide, I knew that although she was just a cat, the bond had been forged.... as she was all I had, I was all she had. She hated everyone else. Who would take care of a whirling ball of hate? So, I kept on living.
I slowly pulled myself back together. I mourned my losses. I met someone who I could trust to not fuck skanks when I had to work late. Our lives got better. My new husband and I had a kid. But, as they do, the years passed. Amos started going blind. Losing hair. Sleeping for days. Getting lost in the room she never left. She was twenty, so it was hardly surprising, but to see such a decline was horrible. She was fierce, but didn't have the energy or eyesight to do much of anything.
Last week, I held her when the vet gave her the fatal shot. Ever since, I've felt broken. I've had to relearn how to fall asleep, because I'm not sharing a pillow with the ever-present hate machine. I feel like I betrayed her.
I'm so bone weary of loss. How cruel is this universe to give us such a wonderful gift as animal companionship, only to make their lives so short? I had to pick up her ashes this morning. I thought I'd be less crushed when I got them back, because at least I would have something of her... something that spoke of the two decades we shared... but it hasn't helped.
Just... if you have a pet, go give them a treat. Hug them. Pet them. Because no matter how long they will be with you, it's never going to be enough.