i keep wanting to go to the kitchen to look at her. and i'm staying up because i'm suppose to try and coax her to eat every few hours, because i'm worried she'll go when i'm asleep..

which she did.

just like when she gave birth. silently, quietly, without telling us.

There was a time when pain was worrying about that blood test in pri6 (would it hurt?), about taking the bcg, rubella injections and twisted ankles. Now, pain is more sophisticated, more tenacious, tendrils of loss wound tight round your aching heart.

You will never see her again, never pet or feed her (she who'll eat anything as long as you hand feed her), see her beg, hear her purr (that deep deep rumble).

And you know, pain never really goes away when you get older.

will was not enough. she slipped from us sometime in the hours before dawn. she didn't wait for me. i'd told her to. i'm that selfish. but at least it looks like she went peacefully.

we have packed many a shoebox in our lifetime, packed and sealed with so much love, so much joy, so many fond memories.. so much heartache.. three and a half years and i haven't loved her enough.

the cage is suddenly too big for two.