Dear Dasher,
You've been gone for about five months now, but it's still weird to not see you waltzing across the living room like you own the place, arching your back with such confidence and self-righteousness. You were truly the biggest pain in the butt I've ever known in my entire life, but I miss you more than I ever thought I would.
We went away this weekend for Memorial Day, like we always do, but for the first time I can remember, we didn't have to set up your food and water for the weekend so that you would be OK at home without us. There was no cardboard box surrounded by towels in the middle of the kitchen for your food and water bowls, and we didn't have to worry about coming home to a puddle at the bottom of the basement stairs because you urgently had to knock your water bowl down a whole flight of stairs. I didn't have to double check that my closet door was slightly opened because you never let me forget that one time I didn't know you were hiding in my closet and you got locked in there for the whole weekend.
We didn't have to make sure your litter box was fresh and clean, and we didn't have to check that the basement door was left cracked open so you could get to your litter box. You always seemed to know when we were about to leave for an extended period of time; you'd anxiously sniff around at the pile of overnight bags gathered in the kitchen and look up at us longingly, as if you were begging us not to leave. Our bags went un-sniffed this weekend, and when we walked out the garage door to leave, you weren't there to scream and meow your head off as you tried to follow us out the door.
When we returned home last night, there was a moment where I truly forgot you were gone. As we opened the door and entered the house, I expected to see you round the corner and start meowing what I can only imagine were all sorts of profanities because how dare we leave you for the weekend? One of us would then try to pick you up and cuddle you, and in your defiant anger and distrust, you would resist at first, but then surrender and begin to purr. You were mostly just happy we came back because somehow you managed to get your food into your water bowl and a princess cat like yourself could not possibly drink water with food in it, but we were happy to see you all the same.
I hope someone up in kitty heaven always replaces your water bowl when you knock your food into it and that nobody ever forgets to check if you're in the closet before they close the door (still very sorry about that). I hope no one ever tries to put a leash on you for fun because I know how much you hated us for doing that that one time. Most of all, I hope someone loves you just as much as we did, even when you would fart on us and throw up in the middle of the kitchen. You were truly one of a kind, Dasher, and we miss you endlessly.
Love,
Gabrielle
