My best friend

This weekend I lost my bestest friend – my kitty Whiskers. After a few months of sickness and severe weight loss, she went home to be with Jesus on Saturday, February 10, at the ripe old age of 16. She knew everything there was to know about me, just as I did with her. She’s been with me through middle and high school, both colleges, moving back home, and finally owning my own place. For the past year she has been queen of the roost, an only cat in an only person household; perching on the back of the couch to watch TV with me, sprawled out on my bed enjoying my electric blanket, sitting on my lap while I type on my computer.

Age changed her. No longer was she the spry Mexican Jumping Bean we nicknamed her as a kitten. No longer was she the painfully independent cat of her younger days. Age softened her – and I think her love for her humans did, too. The older she got, the sweeter she got. She was my baby, my little girl… and I’m so thankful I was allowed to love her for as long as I did.

I miss her so much it hurts… she’s the one who’s always helped me through my grief before – just by being something ALIVE that I could pet and love on. But she isn’t in pain, she’s happy and young again – and I can’t begrudge her that for anything.

I miss you baby girl – I love you.