A Girl and Her Familiar

It's been 8 months and I still wake up crying.

You were born in my father's workshop in a crate of old sheets to Mrs.Potter, your mother, and my first Maine Coon. Her long white fur and bobtail stained with blood and placenta, I saw you. The smallest grey tortoiseshell, with a white neck and paws. Your tail, a stub - and your eyes unopened, I knew you were the one I would beg to keep.

Throughout my childhood I have loved and known many animals; horses, dogs, birds, livestock, and cats (of course). Each has taught me about love, loss, and self. Isabella was the one that bonded with me deeper than any other and stayed with me for 15 years. The being I've shared my bed with the most is no longer here with me. My last connection to my childhood (other than Simpson, my parents, and Morgan) - gone. I wish someone would have warned me how much I would love you.

Isabella, my best friend. With me through laughter, creative hysteria, and depression. She met all of my friends and lovers - and let me know her opinion without being bashful. Curling up on my keyboard as due assignments were piling up, to ensuring I kept my window open year round for her outings. From eating acid and playing with feathers, to rolling in my garden beds - I miss her.

When I moved from home the first time, I would only call to check in on her. I had my farm hands feed her for me and stroke her no less than 100 times a day. My heart would ache to be near her, and hers to me. I would come home weeks later, and she still would be patiently waiting at my bedroom door to curl up with me in our sanctuary. Even then, I would drink a little to much and couldn't help but express my love for her to anyone who would listen. Thick with tears and smiles I spoke of a silent suicide pact. I was convinced she was the only thing that made me human.

Bringing her to my apartment last spring was not an easy decision. 'How do I know this will make her happier,' I kept asking myself. & the truth is, I still doubt it. My mother just kept telling me 'You have to trust how much you know each other.' Taking her away from the farm, the only place she's ever known, to be with me - felt selfish. But, there she was - purring and curled up next to me. Unaffected. We would take outings and walks together. No leash necessary. She would follow me along the stream in my back yard and chew on the dandelions.
Any weekend away I now regret. Any time I was home an hour later than usual, I regret.

 Yet, I am so thankful that her last year was spent so close to me.

Anyone who truly knows me, has seen my love and devotion for this creature. From forcing you to look at her, to crying over how much I adore her. I know when 'the time' came, Isabella knew much I cherished her and how hard the decision was. She sleeps under one of Recurado's plum trees, wrapped in silk and raw garnet. A garden will blossom, and her body remain untouched.

There is no set time to mourning,
I imagine years from now - I will still wake up crying.