Just over 6 years ago, a week before moving house, I walked into a pet shop with DS and DH. We already had 2 cats and had only popped in to grab a couple of bits. The shop had a crate of 3 half bengal kittens, and as I peered in one looked up at me, came over and wouldn't leave the side of the crate, he meowed at me like he was trying to tell me something. He kept looking at me, and to be honest was the most sureal thing to ever happen to me. It was like he was looking into my soul. I had all these memories come rushing back of my childhood cat, who was most certainly my Mum's cat.
After a while, we had to leave. As I walked away this immense feeling of desperation came over me, by time I got to the end of our high street I was in floods of tears. I had to go back and get him. So we did. We brought him home and he slept in our bedroom of a night. He insisted on sleeping on my collar bone and was positively a Mummy's boy. Over time our connection has just grown to a point I can't explain to anyone just what it is George and I have. He actually listens to me, he will do pretty much anything I ask of him even when no-one else has gotten nowhere, at home, in the car when we emigrated, at the vets when he was rushed for emergency surgery, he will do anything I ask, like he knows I wouldn't let anything hurt him.
He suckles from my clothes, comes to find me in bed every morning, he is a legendary hunter, and brings me 'luxury presents' when I am unwell (squirrels, hares and kestrels). He has a certain purr that only I am privy to. He is absolutely massive at 110cm and 6,5kg but is incredibly gentle. Although on the surface he sounds like a good cat, he is so much more. From the first time we met I have always known he is my once in a lifetime soul mate in cat form.
I am a cat person, we have 10, but George, George is different. We have 2 sons and a daughter of his, all of which are good cats, but not a patch on Dad. While I love all our cats, George is more.
This morning, I went outside to go look for him, and I found that he had passed away in his outside kennel, with absolutely no sign as to why. My heart (maybe just my chest) actually hurts. I just can't put into words how lost I feel. It feels like my inner being has been ripped out. I haven't stopped crying all day, I just can't control it - which wasn't helpful as today was the only day and our only chance to buy a new car, that I desperately need since mine went bang. I actually stood outside the dealers office crying. Last year we lost one of our cats, and recently lost my Nan, and although I can say I was heartbroken, this feels so different.
I'm hoping someone may be able to relate. What can I do to make this actually stop hurting.