u/nikoab94

I've had my cat, Tigger since I was in high school and I'm in my early 30s now. My parents found him, his mom, and siblings outside and we ended up taking them in. We got his mom spayed after the kittens were weaned and we kept Tigger plus his mom(we rehomed his siblings). He was never really supposed to be my cat, my little sister loved him because he was orange so of course she named him Tigger and wanted to keep him. The problem was he really didn't like attention or people, at least when he was younger. For some reason though, he liked me. And as time went on he liked only me and wouldn't tolerate anyone else, so he kind of just became my cat. When I moved out I took him with me, he's gotten me through some of the lowest points in my life. Multiple break ups, jobs, moves, falling out with my parents. My little sister, the one that demanded we keep him and named him, passed away suddenly and unexpectedly a few years ago. So as dumb as it sounds, it also feels like I've lost my best friend and a piece of her. He wouldn't even be in my life if it weren't for her, my parents initially planned to rehome all the kittens. She insisted we keep him and my parents gave in. I'm so glad she did because I think that cat saved me as melodramatic as it sounds.

I can't even imagine a day without him. I almost feel like I've been mourning him while he was alive, because the past couple of weeks he just was not himself at all. He stopped greeting me at the door, stopped sleeping in his favorite spot, would hide behind the couch, and would hardly eat. He lost so much weight that he hardly even looked like himself anymore. I don't know what I'm going to do without him. I don't even think I'd be here today if he wasn't by my side. I told him while I was holding him for the last time to "Please find me again." My chest feels so weird and empty, I feel out of it and like I'm in a daze. I wish I could have taken five years off my own life and given it to him, just for some more time with him.