Today I lost my cat soulmate, Kahn. He was 14 and a half years old, and we’d been together since he was 5 weeks old.
He was desperately needy as a kitten, wanting to be with me all the time. I used to carry him round in a pocket when he was very young because he got so distressed if I left the room. As he got a bit older he got more independent, but he’d still walk part of the way with me to work, and be waiting for me somewhere along the way when I came home. I’d walk the rest of the way home with him on my shoulder, purring his head off.
A move to another street resulted in Kahn socialising with some of the less desirable neighbours. There was a many a Saturday morning where I’d be woken by cars screeching to a halt and tooting their horns. This was my cue to retrieve a very stoned or drunk (or both) Khan from the middle of the road. When I moved again I had to put up with a cantankerous moggie while he suffered withdrawal symptoms.
Through the years Kahn has moved around the country, but always took it in his stride. He was a born fighter, and I’ve tended to numerous injuries over the years. No matter how painful, he always let me do whatever needed to be done without complaint. I hadn’t realised I was the only one who could tend to him until someone else took him to the vet - the nurse will always have a reminder of Kahn due to the scars on her arm.
Kahn has been my rock through some of the most awful years of my life. He always knew when I was down and wouldn’t leave me until he felt I’d had enough cuddles to make me feel better. He was truly my cat soulmate.
This morning Kahn ran under my car as I was backing down the driveway. He died just before I got to the vets.
RIP baby – I’m going to miss you so much.
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