Six Months Later

Six months ago was the worst day of my life. It was the last time Brent and I held our little love in our arms after deciding to put him down. It was the right and humane thing to do. He had been so strong for so long, giving us one last holiday together, but it was time to let Binx go.

I debated on whether to post that picture. It’s such a private moment captured, our last seconds with him. I know Brent doesn’t like to think about his last few weeks, when it was hard, and his last few days, when it was really fucking hard. When he stopped grooming himself, and eating, and that fucking jellyfish clung to his middle and wouldn’t let go. I decided to post it b/c it’s our last picture of him and he’s still such a handsome little guy and would want it to be known how good he looked right up to the bitter end (and those tiny paws).

For awhile, the only memories I had of him were all ones from the end of his time w/ us. I was so angry and distressed that all I could picture was him in his final stretch. Yes, that was Binxy, but that wasn’t my Binxy. That wasn’t the cat who, when we went to see if he was the right fit for us, sidled right up to Brent and figure-eighted between his legs and Brent and I just looked at each other like, yup. That wasn’t the cat who could clear the top of a door in a single leap. That wasn’t the cat who would post up at the clock at 4pm and start meowing for his 5 o’clock dinner. 

The good times came back a few weeks after he was gone and the worst of the depression started to lift. I could look at pictures of him w/out having a total breakdown, and Brent and I could talk about him w/out having to hold each other and sob. Six months later and the wound will never be healed, but at least now it’s not so fresh. 

It’s funny what you miss. I miss hearing that familiar rustling sound and walking in to find him eating plastic, knowing what I’ll be cleaning up later that day. I miss coming down the basement steps and seeing his vomit. I miss leaving the laundry room door open and having him slink back there, trying to coax him out from under the boiler w/ a shake of the cat treats. I’d take all of those things -which used to annoy me to no end- in a heartbeat, over and over again, if it meant having him back w/ us.

Since we ended 2016 on such a terrible note, we didn’t have any hopes for the new year. Fortunately, 2017 hasn’t been the state of devastation we expected. We took our first international trip together. We’re going to San Francisco in a few weeks. We have a bunch of weddings and family and friend time planned. It’s not the way we ever imagined, w/out our little Binxy, but it’s our life now; almost unapologetically, it goes on.

Binx has been w/ us throughout the year. We’ve had a few close calls where I know a guardian angel was looking down on us, and I’d like to say thanks, buddy, for fitting us in between meals. I know he got my foot in the door at the shelter, helping me heal by helping other cats. I see so much of Binx in them and it makes me smile. 

You’ll never be forgotten, Binxy. I hope you know how much you were loved. We miss you.