There’s a video of Theodore that I can’t stop watching. He’s on his back, on my lap, purring.

It’s the purr
the reach of his paw
the pink of his nose
his eyes staring at me

It’s his back legs resting on a pillow

He was sick on Saturday.
He died on Sunday.

My youngest keeps saying “He was just so young.”

Before I took him to the emergency vet, I had to look up his birthday. I couldn’t remember which year we adopted him.

Born in 2017
Home in 2018
Died in 2023

He was just so young.

For the first couple of years he and his sister Talula had to be isolated away from the dog. Thank goodness we finally got our dog Finn trained, but I can’t stop thinking of those wasted years when he didn’t have the run of the house. I’m sorry, Theodore.

He was the fluffiest cat I’ve ever had.
His name was Theodore Hobbes
We called him Theo
and somehow the kids called him Bearlious
and I was known to
occasionally
call him
fluffer-nutter-peanut-butter.

He was the sweetest.

He used to wake up from his nap to check on the other cats and the dog whenever there was a little scuffle. When our newest kitten Clyde got into it with Finn, Theo would shuffle in, usually still groggy. He would walk over to Finn and give him a swat.

He liked to sleep on my head at night, and swat all my things off my nightstand in the early morning.

The vet said his urinary blockage was most likely caused by stress. It could have been his change in routine after Clyde came home from surgery and was isolated in my room for two weeks. (No head sleeping for Theodore.) It could have been something we weren’t even aware of, like a new cat in the neighborhood.

Clyde is our baby cat. He had a urinary blockage problem and needed surgery a few weeks ago. But Theodore? Theodore never had this problem. I don’t understand.

I miss him, and I don’t understand.

Did he try to take care of Clyde by taking Clyde’s health problem? Seems like a crazy question unless you ever met Theodore and watched him take care of his family.

He used to love sitting by the window next to the frontdoor — the one he could just reach — and just stare.

Sometimes you’d walk into a room and he was sitting in front of a mirror just looking at himself.

Usually you’d walk into a room and he was napping.

If you were lucky enough to have him sit on your lap, like I was most mornings, you would have a chance to scritch and scratch his soft, soft fluffy self.

Scratch him in the right spot and he’d lick his front leg. Without fail. Full of party tricks, this one.

Grief is full of wishes.
I wish I snuggled him even more.
I wish I never got annoyed when he tried to sleep on my head while I was reading in bed.
I wish I took him to the vet sooner this past weekend.
I wish we had more time with him.

We miss him so much here.

But, I know Theodore is fine wherever he is.

What do I know about cat after-life, but that he’s free of any pain.

I just hope that somehow he is in a lap
purring
reaching his paws —
and that somebody
is loving his
pink pink nose
his pink pink toes
and his fluff
oh
that fluff