A lot has happened in this year. I worked almost every day from June until October, but that doesn’t mean Tiggy was out of my mind. Quite the contrary.
The little cat must have had some kind of telepathy, he always seemed to know when I had a bad day, as he would greet me by the door with one of his “Meooorrww” and I would pick him up and my bad day would melt away. On good days, he wouldn’t even move from the comfort of his sleeping place, wherever that was at that time, and I would pass him by and he would wink just one eye at me, as if to say, “You didn’t need me, today did you.” But he would always make sure I was in bed and then come and snuggle.
My father died when I was 18, my mother left soon after making me fend for myself and my younger brother, and then she died when I was in my early 40s, but I shed more tears and felt more emotion over this little cat than I did the passing of my own parents. It’s weird how someone can get so emotionally attached to a pet and I did, most likely because of what happened to me when I was younger. My children miss him as much as I do; he was some sort of super spirit, so it’s just not me mourning this day.
So I will always mourn May 10, the day my dad passed, May 17, the day my mom died and most importantly January 14, the day my best friend died.