Rawr in purrs, Moosh Moosh.
I can’t even believe I have the wherewithal to sit and write this blog today. But perhaps because this is a labor of love and well-deserved, prepare yourself.
Moosh is gone. We had to let him go today. After 14 years and 2 days of having him in our lives, he is gone. He fought his hardest, and I know he wanted to live, but his body failed him. And we would have failed him if we hadn’t made the decision.
It does not matter how many times you’ve made the decision. It does not matter how many times you have been in that room telling your baby they are the best baby that ever lived and you will love them forever, it is CRUSHING. It does not matter how much you know your decision was right, and that it would have been worse to let them suffer.
But only 14 years for the goodest boi that ever lived? Unfair. Unfucking fair.
All I can do is cry and know I gave him a good life. And let’s be real, all he wanted was to love and be loved and he got that every day of his life (at least after we adopted him).
So in tribute and with an absolutely shattered heart, I give you Moosh.
Hard to believe this was a baby, but he was only 7 months.
When they were both tiny.
My heart is heavy, but my memories are plentiful, and I wouldn’t trade one second of time with him. My Momo, MeowMeow, Mooshies, Mao Mao, Moops, Moo, Miu Miu, Stinky Bananas, MoBear, Big Bear, Panther, Big Boy, Good Son, and whatever else I’ve called you through the years – I LOVE YOU.