My beautiful boy, Snickers, was killed this morning. He ran out into an oncoming car, and was killed instantly. I’ve always been terrified of something happening to Snickers, because he was so incredibly special, I knew how devastated I would feel.
I’ve had lots of cats in my life, but Snickers was more than a cat. He was so intelligent, so saucy, everyone who met him adored him. If you met him outside he would flop onto your feet, or sometimes, he would jump up into your arms, without any warning. He had an incredible trust of humans, and loved to be with people.
He was six years old this month, and I hoped we’d have him for many years to come. I haven’t seen our other cat, Jaffa, his brother, yet today. He will be looking for him, and will do so for a few days. They’ve always been devoted, and when Snickers went missing a few years ago, it took a couple of weeks before Jaffa stopped running everywhere calling him. We were lucky that time, even though he was missing for a month, we eventually found him. I couldn’t stop crying then, just as I can’t now, but that was out of joy and relief, whereas this is just deep pain and grief.
We’ve buried his poor little body outside the front room window, with a rosemary bush over him. It seemed appropriate, since there is no way we will ever forget him. I wish with all my heart that I could have had one last cuddle with him, I wish I’d let him snuggle up in bed with me last night, as he loved to do.
Our lives won’t be the same without our little Snicky boy. He meant all the world to us, and this heartache will never quite go away. But I hope that in time, I’ll be able to remember him with smiles instead of with tears. I love you, Snicky boy.