For My Doodlebug
I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. It’s been more than a year now but I can’t stop crying. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, I’m sorry I wasn’t good to you, I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I’m so sorry. I was arrogant and selfish and I didn’t realize until it was too late. I remember the sound of my own screams and the burning in my lungs and heart. I remember falling to the ground and cradling you in my arms. I remember trying to save you. But you were already gone. There was no blood, but your neck... I remember my sister prying me away from you as I wailed my grief and agony to the world. I remember the beginnings of a light snowfall as my eyesight began to blurry.
Your body just lay there. So I just lay there too.
For My Einstein
I don’t remember the night you disappeared. But my mom said you were screaming. I know what happened, deep down inside, I know. I know what they did to you, my big goofy boy. They never liked you and your brother did they? But you never did anything wrong. Often I think about what happened in that shed. Was it at least quick? Did he hurt you my precious baby boy? He hurt your brother too, but he lived. And I swear to you my lovely goofy big boy, he will never hurt you of your brother ever again.
I promise.
For My Crispy
You were always a wanderer, weren’t you girl? Such a sassy little tortoiseshell cat. My sassy little tortoiseshell cat. I loved you and your sister very much, I still love you. Crunchy always stayed near but you liked to explore. You were fast and feisty and free. You came back home one night, pregnant. A few months later, you started to bleed. Small bones passed and we didn’t know what was happening. Soon, we had an entire skeleton of a kitten. A few parts missing, but we were scared. And there was more. We took you to the vet but they didn’t know what was happening either.
You gave birth to four small wet kittens. One stillborn, one underdeveloped. Both dead. But two survived. A bigger gray kitten, and a small dark brown tabby. We raised them both until we found a home for the brown tabby; Blackberry. We kept your eldest, Blueberry. Our love noodle. You didn’t like him. Or anyone for that matter. But I loved you. And despite your temper, I think you loved me too. He was almost 3 months old when you vanished. We called for you, we went searching, we asked around. But we never found you. I don’t know where you went, or why.
But I hope you’re having the best time, exploring and running and being free.
Caesar
I can’t forgive you. Not for taking one of my last two lights from me without any warning. I want to be mad at you. I want to scream and yell and blame you for what happened. But it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know. You were just barely an adult. You were bored and alone and you wanted out. You were just a dog, almost still a puppy. It wasn’t your fault. The only one to blame is myself. Sometimes I think about you, just you, and I get so angry at myself. It bubbles up and pours out of me from every gland. I just scream and cry, because it makes me so sad. Because it wasn’t your fault and you didn’t deserve what happened to you.Then there are days when I think of my Doodlebug and I get so angry at you. And I cover it up, I bury that little voice, that pull in my heart that says it wasn’t his fault.
I still can’t forgive you. Not entirely. Not yet. But maybe, just maybe, I’ll start.
