Sierra ₊˚ʚ ₊˚✧

Yesterday marked 1 week without my baby. Pickle was quite literally an extension of my heart. She was never just a cat to me. Those who know me, know Pickle, how much I love her, and how much of my happiness was truly because of her. A piece of me died the day she did and now I’m trying to grieve not only her, but the memories we had, the future we should’ve been given, and the happy version of me that existed because she did. Being at home is no longer my comfort because she isn’t there to greet me. The brief moments where I see her in the corner of my eye, her fur that’s everywhere, the scratch marks in her toys, and the pieces of food still left in her container, are all painful reminders that’s she’s not here.

Pickle loved laying on random places: backpacks, boxes, shoes, wrapping paper, everywhere that wasn’t soft and comfy. She also loved scratches above her tail, Churu treats, and Wembanyama 😭 She would squeal if you held her or until you fed her. We called her a meatball.

When I was sad, she was what brought me comfort and peace. I knew if I laid on the ground to cry, she was there, putting her face on mine and getting tangled in my hair 🫩🤍 I truly felt like she and I were soulmates. The grief, the guilt, and the questions of “did I do enough?” Or “why did this happen to her?” still stay with me. The moment I had right when she passed, to hold her for the last time, to thank her and tell her I love her, is something I’ll always be grateful for. And although it’s so incredibly hard to exist in a world without her, I would always choose this pain if it meant she was no longer hurting. And to know she isn’t anymore, along with the hope of seeing her again one day, brings me some kind of comfort.

Rest peacefully my Pickle, Pix, Meatball, Squealy, I love and miss you so so so much. I’m so happy to have had you in this lifetime. 🤍🥒