Three days past.
Pit in my stomach. My heart sunken.
I leave the closet door open. You’re always welcome in. Looking at the third shelf, I’m torn to not see your green glowing eyes reflect back at me.
Morning comes, I wake up and head to the bathroom. I miss your tireless ability to make it to the sink top for a drink of running water straight from the faucet, just as I reach the bathroom door.
I miss the subtle click-clack of your back claws on the solid floor. I miss your frog-croak meow and your purring reassurance that you’re calm and content.
I miss calling you by name to come sleep on the bed. I miss letting you under the covers each and every night, for one minute, only to find out its too hard to breath with all those blankets on top of you. I miss then waking up with you above my head, half scrunched to the bottom of the bed so you can have the entire of my pillow to yourself.
I miss that you steal my chair EVERY time I leave it with the intent to come back seconds later.
I miss your ability to take the freshly cleaned litter box and always have a way to make it immediately dirty again.
I miss the silky soft fur on the inside of your front paws. I miss the tiny tick-looking mole above your ear.
You adopted me as much as I adopted you. I needed you to get me through. You were there for the time I needed anything, I needed you, most in my life.
Unconditional love. What are pets for?
I can’t believe that now your life entwined with mine is only just a memory. Your life is of the past.
What’d I’d give to hear your purr again, your face light up at the opening of a can of wet food. Your health and happiness at the tiny world you lived in. Your soft black fur at my fingertips. Your head nudge for another bit of attention.
I just wish I could have you back.
I miss you tremendously Li Bear.
4 years was far too short.