Content note: pet loss
This week we said goodbye to the most perfect cat. Our sweet Jessie. I knew this day would come one day, but you're never really prepared.
Jessie was perfect. I call her my first-born, despite knowing how silly that is, but she really was the perfect cat. We adopted her from Battersea Dogs & Cats Home when she was five years old. She lived with us for nine years and passed away at the age of fifteen. I know that's a good chunk of life, but, god, I still feel like five years were stolen from me.
She was wonderful, sweet and funny. She saw me at my worst and was always there, standing by me in the moments when tears would take over, especially as working from home became a thing six years ago. Most of the time, when I cried, she would rub her face against me, and once she even licked away one of my tears!
Every day I would say "come to bed, Jessie" and off she would follow me. She always slept by my feet. I don't know when I will lose the muscle memory of getting in and out of bed carefully so as not to disturb her nest. My legs still sleep in the same position to avoid poking her. But the heavy lump isn't there on the bed anymore.
She was our Christmas cards. She was our (eldest) princess. She was our perfect girl.
There's so much I want to say about her. She was always at my stand-up video calls. She was always in the room with me while I worked. She was always annoyed when I used the hair dryer and pulled the funniest facial expression.
She passed away in my arms, and I will never forget the most perfect cat I've ever held.
