Lost Kitty

I've been going through an emotional tumult the past week.  My kitty cat of six years, Juliet, has disappeared.  I don't know where she is, if she is hurt (or worse....God forbhid), or where to even start looking for her.  I feel helpless, and that is such an awful feeling.

I grew up on a farm out in the country, and while growing up I had tons of cats as pets.  I think at one point in time we had over 20 cats that lived on our farm and more than a handful of those cats were "my" cats.  So I am not new to the ordeal of losing a pet and the grieving process that goes along with it. 

But there's something different about it this time around. 

Don't get me wrong, I am trying to stay positive and hold fast to the idea that Juliet will come home. Yet as each day goes by my hope wanes little by little.  Juliet was mine and Dean's first pet.  She was with us through our years at WSU, through moving into our first house, and through our first year of marriage.  We taught her how to play fetch with a little toy mouse, and spied on her as she would sit in the window and squack at the birds outside. 

I'm reminded of her absence everywhere I look.  Her half empty food dish, the empty guest bed that she would nap on, even the litter box that I haven't had to clean for a week.  I never realized how big a void one little cat could leave in someone's life....but that is glaringly apparent now.

My sadness sits just under the surface, every now and then overtaking me.  Everytime we take the dogs out for a walk I find myself scanning the park for a glimpse of her brown fur, or the sound of her tiny jingle bell collar.  I'm hoping and praying she finds her way home. 

Until then, I'll allow myself to feel, to go through the grieving process.  It's really the best way to heal.