I haven’t posted in a while, even though I’ve wanted to.

As some of you know, I had to put my 20-ish-year-old cat, Dusty, down last week. I’ve had him since he was a

kitten, so if you do the math, I got him when I was 3 or 4. Nearly all of the memories I have, he is in my life. I do have some memories before him, including begging my parents to let me have him in the first place. But they are far fewer than the ones I have where he is there.

Dusty was a cranky old cat. He wasn’t really particularly nice to anyone but me; not to say that he was mean, but I was the one he snuggled with. He always slept a lot. That was one of the reasons I picked him from the litter that was dumped at my daycare; he used to fall asleep on my lap, and I liked that.

These last few days, it’s been difficult to fall asleep without him lying next to me. He’s been sleeping on my bed with me for most of my life, too. Sometimes, in the moments when I am first waking up, I forget that he isn’t there to watch for when I go to roll over. And sometimes I forget when I walk into my bedroom that he is not going to lift his head up to squeak out a meow at me.

Pets give you everything while they are alive. Yes, it hurts so much to say goodbye to them. It was a very painful thing to make the choice to let Dusty go. But despite his typical cat selfishness and old crankiness, he still gave me as much as a cat could. And for that, I will be forever grateful.