I think this is the most difficult thing I have been through. I haven't been able to stop crying since Saturday. He was my furry baby for 12 years and now he is gone. The house feels empty. I keep expecting him to jump in bed with me in the morning when the Hubby gets up for work or greet me at the door when I get home, but he isn't there. I get up in the morning and feel kinda lost because I am used to going into the kitchen to feed him, but there is no one to feed. I miss his tiny squeak of a meow and his cuddles.
I know I just have to remember that it was better than him suffering and being in any more pain than he was already. That I saved him from a shelter and gave him a home and a full life. One that could have ended at 7 months if we hadn't adopted him. I need to believe that he knew how much he was loved and how much he is missed.
The Hubby told me that he believed that just like in my dream that my Dad and Poppy were there to welcome him and give him all the head scratching that he likes. My bestie told me that my babies are lucky to have another guardian angel watching over them.
I have been thinking over the past few days that I need to honor him in some way. I was thinking about getting him an ornament for our Christmas tree. We actually adopted him right after Christmas and he always loved sleeping under the tree and looking at the ornaments every year. I am going to have to look around.