PookieSnackenburger, gone but not forgotten

On a slightly overcast day in August 1996 a little runt of a black cat with a grey ring around his neck came home with me. I didn't know then that he'd wiggle his way into my life and become such a significant part of my life.  Today, he crossed over the rainbow bridge to that large litter box in the sky. 

When he first came home, Blueberry deemed him a her. I named "her" Dulcinea.  I would call her "Dulce" for short.  Two weeks after "she" came home "she" grew two fluffy black balls.  She became a "he".  His name then became Fang. See he used to spend a lot of time chewing on Blueberry's hand or my hand.  So Fang seemed appropriate.  But it didn't quite seem right.

One day I came home and I called him my Don Juan, DJ for short.  Then one day out of the blue I started calling him Pookie. And that stuck. Pookie became Pookie.

He had a damn good life and lived a fully spoiled adventure every day. We were both blessed to have each other. Pookie moved around a lot too. Every move I made he adjusted better and better. The last move to this house didn't even phase him.  In his 17 years he lived in 7 different places. Turns out he was part gypsy too.

He is going to be truly missed - and is missed already. He was surrounded by humans who adored him and knew he was lying with every meow that came out of his mouth. His talkative nature made me think he knew the answer to world peace but I couldn't speak cat so couldn't understand him.  I'm sure he was very frustrated.

The past few weeks have been hard. I had to watch the first time you tired to get up and found your back legs weren't listening to you. And I watched carefully these few months as you've walked slower, struggled more with steps, had more accidents, slept deeper and deeper.
I hurt when you struggle to get up. I worried about you when I was gone. I watched you carefully when I was home to make sure you don't need me. I get sick to my tummy when I saw you limp slowly across the room.

I had no choice but to be a brave woman and make that decision earlier this week. The toughest thing I've had to do.  I knew it was the right choice today when I barely cried when Dr. Hanna took you away.  I chose to not hold him or be in the room with him. I just didn't want that to be my last memory of him. I knew he was in good, safe hands with Dr. Hanna and that he wouldn't be afraid. 

I'll survive the black cat shaped hole in my heart. So goodbye PookieSnackenburger.

Thank you for being a part of our lives.
Thank you for teaching me about what it means to be a grown-up and be selfless.
Thank you for sleeping beside my side of the bed these last few years..
Thank you for the times you didn't bite me when I stepped on you in the middle of the night. Or swooshed you off the bed when I didn't realize you were on it. 
Thank for being you – cat and friend.

I hope you somehow make it to the cat side of heaven. I think you'll love it there.

RIP PookieSnackenburger...You are gone, but will never be forgotten.