My dearest Saraswati,
It’s funny the things that have hit me hardest since you passed away: boxes where your food dish should be, seeing your sister wander the house as if she’s looking for you, the special food we bought for you that we no longer need, not seeing you waiting at the door when we get home from an errand… I didn’t expect those to hurt as much as they have. Not having you jump into my lap while I’m resting on the couch at night? Yeah, that pain I did expect. The tears while typing this? Yeah, I expected that too.
But this letter isn’t about the pain of your death. It isn’t supposed to be anyway. It’s supposed to be about love and gratitude. So, let’s start over a bit.
Sara, thank you for all the snuggles and head bumps. Thank you for the moments of pure joy as you zoomed around the house chasing toys as a kitten, as you yelled at the birds in the garden, as you adventured onto the patio in search of that perfect ray of sunshine. Thank you for every moment of happiness you brought the Queen and I for the thirteen years you were with us.
We fought for you as hard as we could in these last couple months and we’re so very sorry it wasn’t enough. We know you were fighting too.
We will watch over your sister. You can be sure she’ll be getting extra pets now from all of us. You can be certain we will cherish every moment we have with her as we cherished every moment we had with you. She is going to miss you too. How could she not. You were her constant companion for the last 13 years too.
We loved you and we know you loved us fiercely too.
I think of all the moments with you, the one that will forever stand out the clearest in my mind, is when the Queen was giving birth to the Little Prince. You were by her side through the whole thing, refusing to budge, undaunted by the strangers in the house, undaunted by the noise and commotion. She was your human and you were not going to leave her side no matter what. You were such a sweet cat. You loved your human and she loved you.
You will be missed, little girl. Your cries, your cuddles, your purrs, your happy run to the food dish at meal times. Your snuggles on the couch in the rare moments these days when we actually got to sit down. Your presence at our feet at night when the kingdom would finally settle down and sleep. Your talkative nature, always letting us know where you were and when something wasn’t right. Your cleverness, sneakiness, determination to steal food from your sister when we had our backs turned. You never really came to terms with the diet we had to put you on five years ago even though that diet likely is what gave us those five good years with you… This list could go on and on. For 13 years you were part of our family.
I don’t really know how to end this. Death is something I struggle with. I guess that’s good, right? It would a bit concerning if I didn’t struggle with it.
So, let’s just say, we love you Saraswati.
Thank you for everything.
All of us in the kingdom