a Mittens-shaped hole

When we were at Reach Out, they talked about a God-shaped hole in your heart that can only be filled by God. I believe there is a God-shaped hole, but I also believe there is a family-shaped hole. And that hole consists of your family, or anyone who acts as your family. Well, there is a Mittens-shaped hole in my heart right now. It is a piece of the family hole that just seems empty, and will never be filled by anything but my memories of her.

We had to put her to sleep today. I had to say goodbye to my dear Mittens. It was hard for all of us… none of us had dry eyes… none of us had a whole heart. It broke our hearts to see her like she was, and yet it broke our hearts to lose her. She went peacefully, poor thing, so at least she is not suffering anymore. But God it’s so weird in this house without her. We can just sense that something is not quite right. Mom is giving away all of the litter and food to friends of ours. The litter boxes are gone, the food dish is gone, her toys are in a little plastic bag on the piano bench, all of the toy spider rings have been picked up. Her cage was donated to the Humane Society. The door to the laundry room is shut… it could never be shut before. We always had it cracked with a door-stop so that Mittens could get to her litter box. Now it’s closed, and we all keep wanting to open it.

The cat fur is still everywhere – I pray that it doesn’t leave for a very long time. There are still bite marks on the edges of plastic bags, and there are still memories of where she would be if she were still home… still alive. We were downstairs watching TV, and I knew that she would have been in the living room, on the edge of the foyer, watching down the stairs so that she could be near us without being crowded. I was sitting in the recliner in the living room reading a book, thinking that if Mittens were here she would have jumped up onto my lap, started purring, and would have forced me to put the book down. We would’ve fallen asleep lying there. She would’ve drooled. If Mittens were still here, I would’ve had to watch my step as I walked through the dark house up to my room. I would’ve been searching to see a glimpse of white paws or whiskers or her neck to make sure I didn’t step on her. This house is different already.

Somehow having her gone is easier than knowing she would be going soon. It’s still not easy, but it’s easier to forget when she’s not around. But I don’t want to forget… I want to remember her forever. Her little face is a permanent fixture in my memory… I know her eyes so well. I grew up with those eyes. I grew up kissing that little head, and escaping those sharp fangs. She was an awesome cat – a human cat – a best friend. She had a long, full life – a pampered life, a loving life, and I will always love the memory of Mittens Shamu.