I'll miss you Tessie (6/4/08-2/6/18)
Tessie (named after the Dropkick Murphys' Red Sox song) was THE BEST. I adored her from the minute I met her in July 2008 from PAWS in Chicago. I knew she'd be mine when I left the room she was in to check out some other cat rooms, only to return to find her at the door waiting for me, looking up at me with those big beautiful eyes. The adoption counselor said "Sometimes we don't choose them, they choose us." That was it!
She was my instant buddy, following me around my small apartment, never further than a foot or 2 away from me. Even on my big couch, she'd be right there next to me. Like, on the same cushion. Or she'd be sitting on me. If she was on her favorite bar stool, she'd be facing me and staring at me when she wasn't snoozing. We slept together most nights. She'd usually allow me my space, except for 3am when she wanted a snack. It took years to get to the point where she would go to her dry food feeder on her own without waking me up. Those were some rough nights!
Tess was more feisty than any cat I had growing up, so that took some getting used to. 95% of the time during our 9.5 years together, I had a scratch on my arms and/or ankles. Jarring at first, I got used to the fact that she'd turn on a dime and swat at me in the middle of playing, or even just petting. I liked to think that although I got her in Chicago, she had a bit of Boston gusto in her, like me.
She was with me through 3 apartment moves, a couple of boyfriends, loss, winter blues, new jobs, birthdays, and millions of happy times. I appreciated that through everything, good and bad, she was the one thing I could count on 100% of the time.
She was a fighter - she survived about 15 months after surgery and subsequent mammary cancer diagnosis in October 2016. She was in a cone for 2 months due to repeated infections. It was pretty brutal for both of us, but she returned to her normal self eventually. Knowing how bad this diagnosis is, I do believe those extra months were a gift, but I still wasn't ready for her to go. I don't think I ever could've been. Throughout Jan 2018 she gradually stopped eating. She had 10.5 level for pancreatitis, but the vets tried so many different treatments for it and nothing worked. Not even a little. We couldn't help but feel that the cancer was in there lurking, possibly causing all of this. Without biopsies and other invasive procedures we couldn't really tell, but I didn't want to put her through that as I didn't think she'd survive. I also didn't want her to starve to death. By that Tuesday morning, I knew I had to do something for my girl, so after our last vet appointment, I called Lap of Love and they came that evening so I could say good night on our couch, in our favorite spot. I still have some guilt wondering if I did enough but I know this is normal so I will work on that.
We had an amazing life together. Time I will treasure and miss. My heart feels empty and I'm not sure when I'll adjust to her absence. It's just not the same opening the door at the end of a long day to have her NOT sitting there - right in the way, those same big beautiful eyes looking up at me - greeting me. I miss talking to her. And petting her. And kissing her right between the ears. I miss her girly meows, her wagging tail whenever I asked her "who's a pretty girl?", her deeps sighs (I'd say, "I know girl, I had a long day too"), her warmth and her heartbeat as she sat on my legs for hours on end, the sound of her eating. Even the sound of her pawing around in the litter box. All of it. And each morning when I wake up, it's a fresh reminder that she's not there waiting for me, sitting on me, meowing at me to feed her. I miss taking care of her so much. I miss everything about her.
Journaling has helped, as has going through old pictures so that I can make an album. I thought it would hurt, but it brought a lot of joy. I captured so many great pics and videos of her, and I'm so happy I did. It's so lonely here, but I'm keeping busy but also crying when I need to, which is often. Her stuff is still out, including her water bowl which is evaporating, and I'll do what I need to do with it when I'm ready. For now, it stays.
Thank you to this community who helped and supported during some pretty awful times. I appreciate it more than you know. I've attached some pics from the last few months. There are 100 I could share but I just picked out some gems.
Tessie (named after the Dropkick Murphys' Red Sox song) was THE BEST. I adored her from the minute I met her in July 2008 from PAWS in Chicago. I knew she'd be mine when I left the room she was in to check out some other cat rooms, only to return to find her at the door waiting for me, looking up at me with those big beautiful eyes. The adoption counselor said "Sometimes we don't choose them, they choose us." That was it!
She was my instant buddy, following me around my small apartment, never further than a foot or 2 away from me. Even on my big couch, she'd be right there next to me. Like, on the same cushion. Or she'd be sitting on me. If she was on her favorite bar stool, she'd be facing me and staring at me when she wasn't snoozing. We slept together most nights. She'd usually allow me my space, except for 3am when she wanted a snack. It took years to get to the point where she would go to her dry food feeder on her own without waking me up. Those were some rough nights!
Tess was more feisty than any cat I had growing up, so that took some getting used to. 95% of the time during our 9.5 years together, I had a scratch on my arms and/or ankles. Jarring at first, I got used to the fact that she'd turn on a dime and swat at me in the middle of playing, or even just petting. I liked to think that although I got her in Chicago, she had a bit of Boston gusto in her, like me.
She was with me through 3 apartment moves, a couple of boyfriends, loss, winter blues, new jobs, birthdays, and millions of happy times. I appreciated that through everything, good and bad, she was the one thing I could count on 100% of the time.
She was a fighter - she survived about 15 months after surgery and subsequent mammary cancer diagnosis in October 2016. She was in a cone for 2 months due to repeated infections. It was pretty brutal for both of us, but she returned to her normal self eventually. Knowing how bad this diagnosis is, I do believe those extra months were a gift, but I still wasn't ready for her to go. I don't think I ever could've been. Throughout Jan 2018 she gradually stopped eating. She had 10.5 level for pancreatitis, but the vets tried so many different treatments for it and nothing worked. Not even a little. We couldn't help but feel that the cancer was in there lurking, possibly causing all of this. Without biopsies and other invasive procedures we couldn't really tell, but I didn't want to put her through that as I didn't think she'd survive. I also didn't want her to starve to death. By that Tuesday morning, I knew I had to do something for my girl, so after our last vet appointment, I called Lap of Love and they came that evening so I could say good night on our couch, in our favorite spot. I still have some guilt wondering if I did enough but I know this is normal so I will work on that.
We had an amazing life together. Time I will treasure and miss. My heart feels empty and I'm not sure when I'll adjust to her absence. It's just not the same opening the door at the end of a long day to have her NOT sitting there - right in the way, those same big beautiful eyes looking up at me - greeting me. I miss talking to her. And petting her. And kissing her right between the ears. I miss her girly meows, her wagging tail whenever I asked her "who's a pretty girl?", her deeps sighs (I'd say, "I know girl, I had a long day too"), her warmth and her heartbeat as she sat on my legs for hours on end, the sound of her eating. Even the sound of her pawing around in the litter box. All of it. And each morning when I wake up, it's a fresh reminder that she's not there waiting for me, sitting on me, meowing at me to feed her. I miss taking care of her so much. I miss everything about her.
Journaling has helped, as has going through old pictures so that I can make an album. I thought it would hurt, but it brought a lot of joy. I captured so many great pics and videos of her, and I'm so happy I did. It's so lonely here, but I'm keeping busy but also crying when I need to, which is often. Her stuff is still out, including her water bowl which is evaporating, and I'll do what I need to do with it when I'm ready. For now, it stays.
Thank you to this community who helped and supported during some pretty awful times. I appreciate it more than you know. I've attached some pics from the last few months. There are 100 I could share but I just picked out some gems.
