On Monday, I woke up to my mom crying out for me. I went downstairs, but I never expected to find my cat, O'Malley, dead and limp in my mom's arms. He was the absolute sweetest boy who loved to watch birds from the window and take naps just about anywhere comfy in the house. He was a purring machine and loved every stranger he met that gave him attention and lots of pets. He was the kind of cat you instantly fell in love with. We got him just over 4 years ago and it has been the best 4 years of my life with him. When we first got him, we found him in an alley (O'Malley the alley cat) with a broken paw and broken vocal chords. He had to have his leg shaved and surgery. We took him in and gave him the best life a cat possibly could have and I just miss him so, so much.
The worst part about losing him is how he died. My mom found him with his head stuck in the window. He clearly tried to get unstuck and claw his way out, but we didn't hear him and normally he's on his daily bird watching duty. He liked to take morning strolls and check up on all the birds in the garden, and then he waits by the door to be let in. He never, ever tries to enter through the window (which is always ajar - it's a swinging oscillo) so this is why this was such a shock to us. He also doesn't like the sound of trucks, so when he hears one he goes and hides in the shed if the door to the house isn't open (and the shed is always open because it has no door). I swear sometimes I hear him coming up the stairs to come into my room and cuddle with me. I always leave my door open and I still do out of habit, and this week I swore I heard his faint little footsteps. Sometimes, I also swear I see him out of the corner of my eye. Then I go to check and see if he's there, and I realize he isn't. I go downstairs to see if he's curled up on the couch or sprawled out on the rug, and I realize he isn't. In the morning, I go downstairs and look for him pacing around his bowl and rubbing himself against me waiting for me to feed him, and I realize he isn't there. It's the little things and routines I miss the most. My life feels so empty without him. My life, my home, my heart.
I would do just about anything to scratch his little chin and hear him purr against my hand. I want to take all his pain and fear away, which I'm sure he felt in his last moments, and reassure him that I will always love him whether he's physically with me or not. I feel so, so sorry that I wasn't there for him and that there was nothing I could've done to change that. If only I could time travel back to that morning, I would shut the window and make sure he's taking his nap with me and give him all of the pets he wants and watch over him as he sleeps. My baby was only 5 years old and I can't help but feel cheated, like I didn't get as much time with him as I wanted. However, in the time I did get with him, it was filled with smiles, purrs, and absolute joy. He brought so much love into our lives and we made sure he was loved just as much every single day. I hope he's all settled into heaven with his new cat tree, watching over birds and taking long afternoon naps on a comfy bed. God, I miss him so much.
Thank you for reading this. It helped a little to write this down and express my pain.
RIP O'Malley <3