I adopted Dori 11 years ago when she was a tiny, sweet, sickly 6-month-old kitten needing to be nursed back to health. I chose her because when I approached her, even though she was sick, she met me with sweet kisses and groomed me. She ended up being the healthiest most resilient cat I’ve ever known. And the silliest. And the sassiest. She and I weren’t always together due to traveling and moving around, but she always ended up back with me, her mama. And she went on quite a few adventures! She and I moved across the country from Missouri to Oregon in 2011. She’s lived in St. Louis, Portland, Southern Oregon, and even Seattle! On June 6th, my little fur baby was hit by a car and killed. She was 11, but she still had so much life left in her. She was as healthy as ever and super playful. She and I were a bonded pair. We understood each other. It was like we could read one another’s minds. She was constantly there for me providing comfort and love and joy. Pet love is such a special kind of love. So unconditional and pure. My other kitty, Nemo, who I adopted just before Dori, died about 7 years ago from kidney complications. Dori and Nemo were best buddies. Nemo was the only other cat Dori ever liked. Now they’re back together again. When Dori died, I was struck with a lot of heavy guilt. I had been thinking about her much more than usual in the couple of months before she passed because my husband and I are moving to China in August. We looked into taking her with us, but it was just too much for everyone. So I was in the process of finding someone to foster her while we are gone. I was feeling so sad about having to leave her behind and feeling a little bit hopeless because I wasn’t having any luck finding her a home. I even had brief moments when I thought “maybe she’ll just die before we leave and then we won’t have to stress over finding her a home.” Then I would immediately shake those thoughts out of my head and scold myself for thinking so selfishly. Of course, I’d never want my cat to actually die! What a horrible thing to think! But hopelessness kind of brings those thoughts on I suppose. Then we lost her. And that’s why the guilt set in so deep. I felt like I had somehow caused her death by ever having had those thoughts at all. I was devastated by her sudden loss, and overcome with guilt. I know I didn’t cause her death, but I really have felt like somehow she knew something was happening. Not that she took her own life, either, but that she somehow could sense I was going to leave her. And the universe maybe did take matters into its own hands. Although Dori is gone, a part of her will now be coming with me to China instead of staying behind. Dori, I miss you so much, bug. Your silly little chirps and meows. Your constant sweet kisses (ok grooming) and your cuddles. Always coming when I called to you, always greeting me when I got home, sleeping curled up to me every night…everything about you. I am so so sorry this happened. You are gone but you will live in my mind and heart forever. There will never be another like you.
Remembered always by Erika | OR, USA
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