Missing, Joey

Friday, June 17, 2011. At 4:15 a.m., I just lost one of my little buddies. My cat, Joey, died. He'd been sick since last Saturday, and actually about 8-months before that, with a mass on one of his kidneys, so the vet tells me. He went in much the same way as my father when he died. Those long, gasping breaths with a long pause in between. I tried calling the vet last night, but it was after 10:00 p.m. and they had all gone for the day. The service suggested I call in the morning.
Joey lay next to the wall in the hallway right outside my bedroom. He called out (to me) shortly after 3:30. I'd spent many nights this past week with him so it was natural to sit with him, bring him a small bowl of water, or some fresh baby food (chicken with gravy, no veggies or garlic). But he just wanted me to be with him, I think. I lay beside him on the floor, gently petting him and speaking softly to him.
It always hurts to lose someone you care about, especially a loved-one. Joey and Gus and I have been a little family now for the past 16-years. I love them both. This hurts deeply.

God's speed, Joey. We'll meet again on the other side.
I love you, Joey.