More Than A Little Sad

I've been simultaneously dreading and yearning to write this part of the post since last Monday.

One week ago today, I made a spur of the moment trip down to Norfolk, VA so that I could be with my sweet childhood cat, Kookie, as he passed away. He was 17 years old, which means that he has been part of my life pretty much as far back as I can remember.

Here is how Kookie and I became best friends for 17 years:

At the end of March 1996, I broke my right femur. My dad was deployed to Bosnia with the Seabees, so my mom was by herself as my 6-year-old self was wheeled off into the first of two surgeries to repair the complete fracture. When I woke up in the pediatric ward of Keesler Medical Center, my mom told me two things: that I would be in the hospital for about two weeks, and that I could have anything in the world that I wanted.  In that moment, I said I wanted a cat. Specifically, I wanted a white cat.

Flash forward 4 months. My parents decided that the fulfillment of my desire would come after I healed and we had completed our next move to Springfield, VA. Of course, as soon as the boxes hit the pavement at our new home I was pestering my parents to take me to PetSmart to go adopt my kitty. When we finally made it to the promised land of "The Lucky Ones" cat adoption center in PetSmart, however, there were no white kitties to be found. But I was not deterred. I had found my forever friend: the stark black kitten with big greenish yellow eyes.

My parents kept asking me if I was sure because he was exactly the opposite of what I wanted. I was positive in my decision, and I named him "Soot". As in fireplace soot... I was 7-years-old, and that was the only thing black-colored I could think of at the time.  Looking back on it, someone should have advised me otherwise because his name evolved oh-so-very-much over his lifetime before settling on Kookie (which I believe was a variant from 'kitty-koo'... what can I say, I am a freakazoid animal person) when he was probably close to 10-years-old. 

We went through a lot together, the Kook (as my husband and many others referred to him) and me. He was the most friendly, loyal, sweet, fun, and loving cat you have ever met. He was the best snuggler. He loved to hang out in the kitchen... especially if someone was cooking salmon or chicken (his faves).  He was my big boy... usually weighing around 17-19 lbs. 

This is (I think) the last picture of the two of us together from May 2013. 

Having never lost such a beloved pet and friend before, I am learning how to be sad and how to cope.  I'll post later about the techniques that are working well for me. I just know I will never forget about the best cat in the whole entire world.