Dear Crookshanks,
I can’t believe it has been two weeks since you passed away. Your death was sudden, and totally out of the blue. But I knew you were fighting for your life, and you battled those illnesses like a fierce lion. I am still struggling to accept that you are gone, crying every other day whenever I think about you. No doubt were you the sweetest, most loyal cat my family and I ever had. During the eight years you lived, you always put a smile on our faces. The way you sprang into the house whenever we came home, the way you meowed for food, and the way you rolled around on our made beds—these were all pure joy for us. Things will never be the same without you, Crookshanks.
You stood as the guard of our house, chasing away stray cats whenever they lurked around the backyard. Our house was your property, not theirs. You never left my side when I felt that no person understood me; you probably did. Whenever I have a crappy day and decided to cool off at the backyard, you would run up to me and rub up against my leg. That always made my day. I can’t recall a time when you’ve clawed me to get what you want, for you were simply the nicest cat ever.
It feels like yesterday my sister and I adopted you and your sister Scabbers. We put you two in a Nike shoebox and took you home. Your sister meowed miserably during the car ride, but you didn’t. You were happy that we became your owners. Everyone who visited the house loved you. When my grandparents slept over, your friendliness stole my grandma’s heart so much that she wanted to take you home. You were one protective, territorial cat, but you were so kind to every human around you. It was as if you were a kind human yourself. And who could resist your adorable orange and white coat? Now, whenever I see an orange and white cat, I always think of you. You are, no doubt, the original—the Alpha cat.
I liked how plump and strong you became, being the first to eat among the other cats once you heard the canned wet food open. Nothing pleased you more than the sound and sight of food, and you tore it up every time. You seemed to enjoy your meal more than Garfield enjoyed his lasagna. It made me laugh, as I knew that your appetite was as big as your heart.
You never left home and stuck by my family and me through the roughest times of our life. Financial problems. Family problems. Academic stress. You were always there. Though this past summer, I once thought you ran away from us since you didn’t come home until six in the evening. This upset me for a whole day, and I thought you weren’t going to return. I teared up with joy once my mom heard you meowing by the front door. I was so glad you came back.
I am very sorry for ignoring you at times, and yelling at you for messing up the room or defecating around the house. Sometimes I feel as if we’ve been lousy owners to you when you got older, not taking care of you as often as when you were a kitten. It hurts me now how much I regret doing that, especially since you’re gone.
I want to thank you for practically being my best friend for the past eight years. Somehow, you cheered me up when no one could. You made me happy just by doing the little things a cute cat does: meowing, purring, and rolling around just for me to rub your tummy. Thank you for also being a loving brother and father to our other cats; I know they’ll look up to you. We’re all blessed to have had you.
You still seem so alive to me—only now I know that you’re not suffering anymore. My family and I will never forget you. Thank you for being a special part of our lives. I love you, Crookshanks.
Love,
Monique
