by Natalie Anastasia
Today, an enormous part of my life left me. My cat, Eddie, died. I had this cat longer than I know all of the friends I currently have today. This beautiful, sweet creature came into my life when I was eight years old. He was there when my grandmother died. He was there when my parents got divorced, when I was uprooted from my childhood home and relocated. He was there through all the bad times. My Eddie Spaghetti.
He was a runt to begin with, taken away from his mother far too young in life. When he was a kitten, we had to keep him in a big cardboard box so he wouldn't wander around and get lost. We kept a giant stuffed lion in there to keep him company. I decided he was lonely anyway, and I used to sit in that box for hours with him. He was the cutest little kitten; tabby, with a spotted little belly. He used to play with our dog, Bob, who was as gentle as can be with him. While he was still young I remember saying to my mother "I wish Eddie would stay little forever."
He did. He was my little runt. Due to his weening too early, he never did grow up to be a very big cat. He was always fairly small.
Eddie and I formed a bond that remained strong all the way until the end. I was his Mama. I loved that kitty so very much, and I know that he loved me. Sometimes, when I was sad he'd sit on my chest and purr, and give me little kitty smiles. He slept with me at night. Sometimes, when I'd pick him up I'd bend over and he'd climb over my shoulder and onto my back. I'd walk around the house, stooped over with little Eddie perched on my back, enjoying the ride.
Sometimes when I'd take baths, Eddie would sit next to the tub and just purr. I'd get my hand wet, pet the fur on his head backwards so it'd be all spikey. Eddie always loved to sit on my lap when I was doing homework, or reading something. He was far more important than any of that stuff.
But, now he's gone. This wonderful part of my life went away today. I wasn't here for him.. Sean was; he held him as he died. I wish the end hadn't been so rough for Eddie. I often feel bad for not taking him into the vet again sooner. I wonder if there was anything I could have done to make the end easier for him.
I miss my cat. He wasn't "just a cat" to me. He was my family. He was my baby. Ed was there for me through thick and thin, longer than many humans I know. He saw me through childhood, through puberty, into young adulthood. I was the best mommy I could be to him, and I guess that's what matters.
My little Eddie, I know you aren't hurting, or uncomfortable anymore. And I am grateful. But I sure do miss you, kiddo. Your mommy loved you all your life, and she will never, ever forget you.
You will always be my baby.