Paw Print on the Mantel

Bella took to it right away when we moved. It’s a shame she couldn’t be here longer. Today, Traci and I agreed that we’re really warming up to the house. But it’s hard for us to come home without Bella here.

We went to see Cabaret at Le Moyne after a trip to Abbot’s Farm and the Antiques Exchange. Most of the trip followed the same route we took on Tuesday. I was choking back tears most of the day–even during intermission.

We have Angel’s photo and urn on a shelf in the bedroom. The vet in Heidelberg sent us a casting of her paw prints; this morning, I wished we had Bella’s prints to go with the wooden urn on our mantel. A package from our vet was waiting for us when we got home. There was a paw print, a tube with some of her fur, and a kind letter.

A week ago today, I was playing Assassin’s Creed on one of the computers upstairs. Bella walked into the room and meowed at me once, her voice raspy because of the tumor pressing on her larynx. I picked her up and put her on my lap. She curled up on my lap, back against the computer desk, and purred. I relished the moment; she used to visit the office when we lived in Hawley Green when she was healthy, and recently, despite her failing health, she’d started coming upstairs for visits, crying, huddling by the vent under the desk, and seeking companionship.

I’d started posting games to Twitch, and I hoped to record what would no doubt have been a tearful session Thursday with her on my lap, even if I had to carry her upstairs. It was supposed to be the day we took her away from her new home, and ours, for the final time.

Bella got up and tentatively followed me down the stairs. It was the last time she joined me in the office.

We’re still both struggling to cope with her absence. We’ve known we would lose her for months now, but I don’t think there’s a way to brace yourself for such a loss.