Justin and I had been friends for the past 13 years. Justin was my cat. Justin died today.
Every time I have to back up and re-type a sentence to refer to him in the past tense, it seems to get a little easier, but it still brings tears that I am unable to hold back.
In the past I have watched television shows documenting people who paid their life savings and went into debt to save the life of a pet. At the time I remarked on how irresponsible, crazy and silly that was. I talked about how people are insane to place so much importance on an animal. Today as I saw my friend, haggard, tired, and in pain from the kidney failure that had poisoned his body, I experienced what drove those people.
There is no commodity on earth so precious that its value is greater than that of love and friendship. And there is nothing I would not have done in that moment to bring my friend back, but it was too late.
Justin and I first met at my mother's house, she had recently answered an ad in the newspaper for free cats. He was born on a farm. The moment I laid eyes on him, I thought he was the most beautiful cat I had ever seen, sleek and pure white. He was more laid back than inquisitive - he just yawned at me when I knelt down to look at him. I told my mother that I would take him off her hands any time the need arose. It was not long before she had to move to a place that didn't allow pets, and Justin was welcomed into my home.
He was instantly comfortable, and set about catching mice like he was in a competition. He was also very smart. For a while I thought he might have been raised by dogs - he liked to play fetch, and he got so good at it you could throw ridiculous things at him and he would bring them back - like empty soda cans. He also had no problems drinking out of the toilet. He was very gentle, and would very meekly request attention when he wanted to play by gently tapping you on the shoulder or the knee with his paw. He liked to sleep on top of people. He had very curious eating habits - he used to meticulously lift a piece of his dry cat food with his paw, then dunk it in his water dish, wait a few seconds and then fish it out to eat it. He was affectionate, quickly finding a lap whenever one was available. My wife taught him to kiss - pretty hard to imagine a cat doing that until you see it. He loved to play with the mouse-on-a-string toys but after the first few minutes the first time he encountered one, he figured out that the string was what was really controlling things and started going after that and ignoring the mouse.
As I rode to the vet today to tell him goodbye for the last time, I kept thinking about all of the times he wanted to snuggle that I pushed him away because I was busy, and all the time times I could have stopped playing a game for five minutes to love on him. To be honest there weren't all that many, but I regretted every single one in that moment.
The vet ended his pain, and I felt the last few beats of his heart, under his soft beautiful fur. There could be no more moments.
If you have a friend like Justin, go hug him and hold him close (or whatever he likes), and cherish the time you have with him. It may feel like he'll be there forever but he won't. Don't miss a moment, because I promise you, you there aren't enough of them as it is.
Justin was a part of my life, and unique in the universe, and the universe has been lessened by his passing. He was a great cat, and a great friend, and he will never ever be forgotten.
Goodbye, Justin, you'll always be my Zurpookderufen...
