One year ago today I helped Mo cross the Rainbow Bridge.
He was a part of my life for so long, quietly in the background, that I didn't realize what he'd come to mean to me until he was gone. There's not a day I don't think about him. I still catch myself looking in the yard for him on a regular basis.
I have regrets. For so long I wrongly believed him to be just a timid cat with a family who visited for a snack. If I'd realized early on that he was feral might I have earned his trust enough for him to consider moving into the house, or at least allow me to help him sooner when his health started to go downhill?
I will forever be grateful that I had the opportunity to be with him at the end. My greatest fear was that he would just disappear one day and I would never know what happened to him, which is exactly what a neighbor is suffering with right now as her own cat vanished 3 weeks ago.
He came to me for help. He wanted me with him. I'll never forget the way he kept reaching for me before we left for the vet. He needed comfort and didn't want to be alone.
I'll also always remember how attached Dad became to him in their last couple years. I used to jokingly refer to them as "my two old men". Just 2 1/2 months after losing Mo, I lost Dad too. I hope they're hanging out together now watching over their two girls, Mudpie and I.
I'll never forget you Mo, and I'll always love you as one of my own, because you were. You were a sweet, special boy who deserved an easier life than the one you were given. I'm honored to have been the one who got to take care of you, but I'll always wish I'd been able to do more.
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On Thursday we have some exciting Mudpie/Mo news to share, so please join us then.
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