Bubba is home.
He had stopped eating and was back to hiding in the bathroom closet sleeping all day. He was in a lot of pain.
My sweet boy.
I have taken his death particularly hard. Or maybe it’s the grieving the loss of four companions within the past 16 months. I feel incredibly guilty, and keep asking myself if there was more I could have done for them. What did I do wrong?
It feels so empty here.
This morning as I left for work, I watched a squirrel scamper across the road and I thought how this time last year Rumpy would have been trying to chase after. Yesterday Hissy was sitting Kitty Loaf style by the door, and for a moment I thought he was June Buggie. And each time I look inside the bathroom closet, I expect to see Bubba napping there.
But they are gone. Now there are new routines to establish.
Little Girl is my constant companion. If I am home, she is nearby. I’ve been giving lots of attention to Yella and Graybie. They are happy to oblige me. And Hissy Fit Jones? He has his moments when he wants me to hold him, and I do. He nuzzles my neck and purrs contentedly.
As for me, I am tired. Life has been particularly tough for me these past few years, and there seems no end in sight. But I only have to maintain the struggle for this day. Tomorrow will have to take care of itself.
Rest in peace, my sweet boy.