Three months ago, we found you in a barn. With cows. That's just where you liked to hang out, I guess; in a barn with cows. And regular cows, too, not even the chocolate milk ones. But you were just a baby, maybe you hadn't even met a chocolate cow yet. We found you, with your family, and when we saw you, we knew you were the one. When I picked you up and looked at you, you didn't shy away. You didn't scratch me, or try to jump out of my arms. You stayed perfectly still, looked at me, and purred. That's how it started, with two simple words. I looked at my fiancé and said, "this one."
We put you in the carrier and said bye to the cows together. Before we left, we made sure to ask the nice lady at the fruit stand a final time if it was okay to take you. And once she said yes, we hopped in the car and we were on our way. You sat in your carrier, on my lap, and you stuck your little paw out, looked at me and meowed. As a matter of fact, you meowed the whole way home. For fifteen straight minutes. I kept trying to tell you that it was going to be okay, that we were going to take you home and take care of you. But you didn't understand English yet, so. What you must've thought!
We finally pulled up to our apartment, and we brought you inside. We had to keep you in the bathroom at first, until we could give you a proper wash. Afterwards, we let you out into the house, to explore your new home, and meet your new big brother, Monti. You were just a baby, and we knew Monti would show you the ropes. You two got along so well, it was really quite amazing. We expected turf wars, and cat fights. We expected you to fight over who could use the litter and when, or who got to sit on which dressers/ counters, or whatever cats argue about. But, instead, you two became family. Giving each other baths, sharing food and treats with each other, playing with each other. Honestly, it was surreal; in my experience, cats very rarely get along. But again, I think it was because you were a baby. So we all already knew that Monti was in charge. Things were perfect, best they could be for exactly three months, and not a day more.
A few weeks ago, I learned about a place called The Rainbow Bridge. It is where all pets go, after The Big Sleep. I guess when you're a kitten, every sleep is the big sleep, because you sleep for fourteen hours a day, somehow. But this sleep, The Big Sleep, is different. This one is an adventure. And when its time for you to go on that adventure, I can't go with you. Yesterday morning, we had to send you prematurely. I didn't think it would be time for you to go so soon, but some choices are beyond me and my power. I can't go with you, but there are some things you need to know before you go.
I want you to know, that I loved you like I love my family. That seeing you go has been more painful than most things that have happened to me in years. It's because you're going on this adventure so young, too young, and not only did I have so much to offer you, so much love I still wanted to give you, but that I know you had so much to give back, too. I want you to know that I'll never forget you, that I can't forget you, and that nobody will ever take your place. I want you to know that my fiancé misses you, and so does your big brother. I want you to know that I would give anything to have you back. I want you to know that there will be people who will say, "What's the big deal? She was just a cat." And I want you to know that those people are allowed to say that, because they'll never understand. And we don't need them to. Yes, you were a kitten. "Just a kitten." But you were my kitten. My eyes are still wet, my jaw hurts, there's a lump in my throat, and my heart is broken, because you were my kitten, and I love you.
When you get to The Rainbow Bridge, you'll see all manner of pet crossing it. But you were special, and you get the special treatment. I called ahead and let God know you were coming. I paid for all the expenses, so don't worry. When you get there, He'll pick you up and hold you close. He'll walk you over that bridge himself. And he'll bring you to your new, special home. And guess what? We filled it with all your favorite stuff. There's that special organic food we always buy you. Various packaging for you to gnaw on. Tons of my living room carpet for you to claw up. Socks, because you love feet for some reason. There's shoe lace hanging off of scratching posts, remote controls for air conditioners on top of tables for you to knock over, and every door is cracked just wide enough for you to get in, so you can carry on thinking you're sneaking into stuff. Oh, and the best part? All the closet doors are wide open. You can finally see inside them. Knock yourself out, sweetheart. You've earned it.
Nala, I don't know why you had to leave early. I'm not sure I'll ever know. And I don't know what to do. I don't know if this will ever be okay. And I still have so much I want to say to you, that I will never be able to now. But above all else, I'm so happy that you were here with us, in a home of people that loved you more than just a pet. We gave you the best food, toys, litter, and you only slept in the bed with us. You were a princess and that's how we treated you. You were always one of the reasons to come back home. One of the few things that could put a smile on my face. I never took you for granted, I guess I just assumed that.. That you would live forever. In a parallel universe, you're still with us, at our apartment, and we're playing with you and Monti right now. Do me a favor; in that world, tell me to pick you up, and never put you down..
You took a part of me with you, and you left some part of you here with me. And although you're somewhere else now, somewhere where I'll never get to see you again or experience your ceaseless noise-making and foot-gnawing, you'll always live on, here at home, in our hearts. I love you Nala, and I hope you can forgive me for allowing you to leave so early.

Love forever,
Eddie.