I met Milo in February of 2011. I was visiting home, for my moms bday, when I was living in FL doing my Disney program.
He was small enough to fit into my hand.
I've always been the type to barrel in, when I love, I love hard.
He didn't want any of it. There is a picture out there somewhere on my besties old phone of him trying to push my face back with his little paws as I was going in to try to kiss him.
He was a feral born kitten, my mom was taking care of a ladies cats in the country, and she was trying to get him in with the rest of them.
Eventually she took him and his sister back home here to live with us.
The rest is history.
He was usually the first one that I said hello to when I got home from work, and I tried to always say goodnight to him too.
All I had to do was say "Milo" and he usually came running around the corner from where ever he was hiding.
He caught a mouse some days ago.
My mom laughed about it like it was so amusing.
Cat caught a mouse. He's a real hunter.
Well he may have been feral born, but he was a house cat. Lazy, and never had to hunt for his food.
How do you suppose he caught it? It must have been sick. Everyone else is laughing like its not serious. Haha he caught a mouse.
A day later, he's sick.
No one is taking it seriously.
I knew he would die. I told them to do something. I begged them to do something.
"He's fine, he just has a cold."
Well now he he is dead.
And I was out Christmas shopping... For people that will never be a part of my life other than in passing.
Feels like everything is just in passing.
And by the time I got home I was already in tears because of something that happened while I was out.
This year is so heavy.
This year has taken so much from me.
But not the one thing I wish it would take.
I'm still here.
I'm always -still- here. Remembering all these stupid things. Holding on to all these memories that don't really amount to anything.
After the house fire, I made peace in thinking that I was the one that lived to carry on the memories of those that didn't make it. I had to have woken up for some reason.
I know I've not had the hardest life.
I could have been not born at all, I could have been born in a different time different place.
I know the my experiences with abuse could have been so much worst.
I understand why people do things to kill the pain. The weight of these memories. The weight of this worlds hatred.
But I don't understand why I am here, and I'm not sure I want to know.
Five years was such a short time to love you.