We Say Goodbye to Merlin

I won't lie - it's hard for me to find the right words to convey what it's like to lose a beloved pet. Whether you're a child or an adult, it's never easy. I lost plenty of pets as a child, and my heart broke with each loss. But it seems that when you lose a pet as an adult, it seems harder. I don't know why, but your heart breaks a little more.

On Thursday, we lost Merlin, our household tabby, after a long battle with illness. We knew it was getting close, and no matter how much we tried to prepare for it and get ready for that moment, the tears still poured out of our eyes like a racing river. The next day, we were incredibly depressed, and still cried whenever we came across a place that held memories (like the nightstand where he would sleep or the end of the desk, where he would wait for someone to pass by so he could get attention).

As the days have passed, I have found myself crying less and celebrating his life more, and the crazy antics he was known for.

When I reflect on the day we lost him, I am convinced that even if you're generally a strong person, losing a pet as an adult is no more easy than if you were younger. You love them a little stronger; you hurt a little more; you cry harder when they're gone.

You know what I just realized? That I don't even have a full photo of Merlin. But I will say that he was such a handsome boy with he orange striped fur, and the way he walked. He had blood-orange-red eyes that looked evil but he was one of the sweetest kitties ever. He was also the loudest - louder than our Siamese!

We miss him, and always will. But he's up at Rainbow Bridge, having fun and learning the ropes to becoming a cat angel. (I tried not to cry but I lost it at this point. Sorry if it seems a little depressing.)