Words cannot even begin to describe how much I already miss the little pit-pat of his paws around the house.
Blackie was born on a very, very windy afternoon on April 17, 1997 in Buford on our front porch. His mother, Mince (I heard my mother talk about mincing garlic, therefore, I named her Mince), was a stray who took residence on our porch when she was pregnant with Blackie, Timmy, and their two other siblings, Pumpkin and Wendy. Blackie was the third one born with Timmy (his twin) following immediately behind him.
Blackie was certainly the smartest one of the litter. He was the first one out of the box in the basement and the first one to walk steadily for the longest period of time. I can clearly remember putting him back in the box with his siblings in the evenings after he went exploring for awhile.
When the kittens were old enough to be adopted out, we had every single one adopted, however, Blackie's adoption fell through. We wouldn't have had it any other way. We had decided to keep his twin, Timmy, because he was timid, but hysterical. Blackie always balanced him out by being respectful to our old cat, Ms. Rabbit (she had bunny ears, not even kidding), and always was the butler of the family.
Ms. Rabbit passed away on May 4, 2003 when she was 16. 5 years old and is deeply missed. About a year after we moved up to Rabun County, Ga, Timmy went missing and never returned back to us. We already had Taylor (who was primarily my cat), but he went missing on the night of my junior prom in high school and never returned. We believe coyotes are to blame for both, and miss them very much as well. So, Blackie became the alpha cat of the house.
Blackie and I became really, really close during high school and college after I lost Taylor in 2007. He and I were close beforehand, but not to that degree. Coming home on the weekends meant me getting help on my homework, belly rubbing time, and snuggle time with Blackie. Words cannot describe the unconditional love that Blackie had for Dad, Mom, and I. He always knew when I was sad or sick, and always knew a way to comfort me, no matter what.
When Dad was going back and forth taking care of my grandparents, I came home more often to be with Mom and to help out with giving Blackie his insulin (he was diagnosed as a diabetic early on in my college career). Snuggle times were more abundant, he slept underneath my covers quite a bit, belly rubbing time was expected often, and I enjoyed taking him out for his romps in the mornings. He even let me kiss him on the head (which I was the only one in the house that was granted this privilege).
Moving to Richmond was difficult, but even harder knowing that I would have to leave him and Bobbie Lou behind, but especially him since I knew his time with us was limited. Every time I came home, I would leave crying hysterically every time because I was afraid I'd never see him again and wouldn't have the chance to say goodbye.
Blackie was a very well traveled cat as well. We would throw him and Bobbie into the car and take them to the beach each year. Traveling first class as a feline with the Nelms family meant pillows for them in the back and cold cuts from Subway on the way down. I'm so thankful that Blackie got to go to the beach with us just a couple of weeks ago.
As his health has declined since I've been home for a bit, I would take him to do his business, take him to his food and water bowl, and tuck him in underneath my papasan chair. I would sometimes have to wake him up in the night due to his snoring. :) In the mornings, Daddy would take him out for his morning romp, feed him his tuna and pate, and give him his morning insulin shot. Then it was either nap time for Blackie, rub time, or more pate and tuna time during the day. On a couple of occasions, I would even scramble an egg with tuna and cheese for him for brunch or lunch.
|Blackie's Last Morning Romp (June 20, 2013)|
Thursday morning, even after 16+ years, will always have come too soon. Tuesday and Wednesday night consisted of snuggle time on the couch with Dad and Bobbie included, which I am so thankful for. Thursday morning, Blackie had his tuna and his morning romp, which was something he really enjoyed. On Thursday morning around 11:15am, Dad and I heard something as we were sitting at the kitchen table and rushed to the living room where Blackie lay on the floor. Dad and I knew that it was time, and needless to say, the tears began to flow quite heavily, but Dad and I laid down on the floor with our arms around him as he began to pass. He purred and purred quite a bit, looking up at me and Daddy. Bobbie, seeing him in discomfort, came up and bonked him gently on the head one last time (this is a sign of affection with her). We had hoped that he would pass with us there with him at home, but as soon as we detected discomfort, we took him to his vet of 10+ years, Dr. Woodward, who helped him pass comfortably with Daddy and I with him the whole time.
Even with Dad, Mom, Bobbie Lou, and I in the house, the house feels so incredibly empty to me. I miss his little meow, his comfort, and his companionship more than anything.
It's amazing to me how a pet can make such a huge difference in your life, including comfort, unconditional love, and constant companionship, especially after 16+ years. There are only 2 years of my life that I can remember not having Blackie in it, making his passing extremely difficult. He was a staple of home for me, and as an only child, even at 23 years old, it's hard to fathom them being gone.
I miss my Sweet Boy more than I can even describe in words. I'm so thankful that I got to hold him when he was first born, but even more thankful that Daddy and I got to hold him when he passed.
Remember to always love your animals, make time for them, and ALWAYS spoil them rotten, because they represent the unconditional love that humans are not always capable of.
I love my Blackie cat always and forever. He is and will be unbelievably missed.