I lost another best friend today. My 16 year old cat passed away. It hurts like hell. I got him 13 1/2 years ago from the cat shelter where I used to volunteer. I lived alone at the time, and I was looking for a pet who needed a quiet home. One day I noticed a small black cat curled up in the corner of a busy room. I could tell he was uncomfortable around all the other animals. From my time at the shelter, I’d learned that black cats are less likely to get adopted, probably because of the stupid superstitions people have. He was so shy and sweet.

He had a rough start, so we understood each other. He had a hard time approaching people, but once he trusted someone, he was very friendly. He was 2 1/2 years old when I got him. He and his brother Duncan were brought up here from Virginia. They were found hanging around outside a grocery store where the bakery staff would feed them baked goods. Donut was a good a name for him, so I kept his shelter name. He needed teeth pulled and cleaned because of his terrible diet, but otherwise he was healthy. His brother had already been adopted, and he was all alone. He was my companion years ago when I needed him, and he was always here in the past few years when I felt alone. Today my house feels very empty without him.

Sometimes I don’t think humans deserve animals. They aren’t cruel like people can be. As a trauma survivor, I feel safer with animals around me. I can’t even put into words how therapeutic their presence is. They love you unconditionally. Since having my daughter, I’d sometimes feel bad that I didn’t give him as much attention. I know I gave him a safe home though. I’m glad he had such a long, comfortable life in the end. I feel pretty damn empty right now. I don’t know what it’s like not to have a pet in my house. I’ve always had animals, ever since I started rescuing cats as a kid. Donut has been with me for so long, it doesn’t seem real that he’s no longer here.

Today was a brutal day. I had to make the decision to call the vet because he had deteriorated, and I knew he was suffering. He was out of it, and his health had gotten much worse lately. I didn’t want to let him go, but I knew he needed peace. I also had to make the tough decision to not be there with him when he died, because it’s too traumatic for me. I know he’s not in pain now. I love you Donut ❤

💕🐾 Please adopt if you want a new pet. Please also consider a black cat, they are less likely to find loving homes 💕🐾

The day I brought him home, 13.5 years ago. Feels like yesterday. I was in grad school living in a tiny apartment on my own. I’m grateful I had this sweet little soul to keep me company.
Donut, 15 years old. Even as an old kitty, he had the cutest kitten face

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