It’s been too quiet

Loki's absence is truly felt. No snoring which could be heard from across the room. No rumbling purr. Even the kittens (who aren't really kittens anymore) aren't as vocal.  They keep looking for him. I know how they feel.

I have Loki's urn on my desk, slightly in the way of viewing my monitor, in keeping with how he would do so in life.

I miss my constant companion. I miss my left leg being warmed by him laying against it, resting his head on my shin. I miss shutting things down, and looking over to him and saying "I'm going to bed. You coming?" and him getting up and following me.

More that i miss:

His night time snuggling/cuddling.
Him head-butting my hand in the morning, followed by using his head to shove my sleep mask off.
Meowing and snogging my ear and nose to get me up in the morning.
Following me around for my daily walk outside.
Keeping me company when I did some gardening.

Loki, I will forever miss you in my life.

The Lord of the Manor has passed

Loki, my beautiful cat, has crossed the rainbow bridge. We took him to the vet this evening, in hopes that some antibiotics and pain meds would ease his discomfort for a little while longer, but alas, that wasn't meant to be.

The cancer had spread very rapidly and was now over the back of his tongue. It was only because I asked him that he ate yesterday. That was his last 'rally'. The sarcoma was not only infected by necrotic. All there would be left for Loki was slow, painful starvation. I made the decision, as much as my heart and soul screamed for me to take him home with me just for a few more days.

We were given a room. I combed him into blissful relaxation, and waved for the vet to enter when she ever so gently knocked.  The 'sleep' shot... it wasn't even halfway emptied and his head fell into my hand. I cupped it until the rest of it was injected. 

He has no more pain now, but I am shattered.  I want my imperious Lord of the Manor, on my desk, demanding to be brushed. 

If only love could actually have healed.