My sweet Leela.

I haven't really dealt with this yet. I haven't really been able to feel the loss. Leela, my sweet and loving 25 lb Calico died a little over a week ago, and I haven't cried much or talked about it much. I haven't grieved.

When it first happened I felt numb. I was glad it happened fast. I was glad she didn't suffer. I was sorry that our last goodbye was just a quick pat on the head before I headed out the door. Why didn't I at least sit with her for a while? Why didn't I realize that her meow was so different than normal and take her to the vet? It actually crossed my mind that the meow was weird - but when I pet her she purred and seemed happy. I thought it was just her good morning meow, with a twist.

The more time that goes by I realize more and more that I am acting odd about this. It's like I'm blowing it off. It's like I'm just not letting myself believe it.

I hate not having her around. I hate that she's gone. I hate that she died. It's weird only putting a handful of food in the bowl and having it last 3 days. It's freaky that Nibbler is always around, always on top of me, always snuggling like she never did before. It's so sad that my big green eyed baby is nowhere to be found. She's not on the loveseat, she's not next to my desk, she's not anywhere anymore.

I don't understand why I'm not wailing and flailing and laying awake at night. All I feel is a cold, flat sadness. It's like a pain that's always been there, cool and mellow, living as a a permanent part of me.

I wonder if losing my mom changed me. I wonder if I still have the capacity to feel the pain of losing a cat - after my frame of reference has changed so drastically. I hope not. My little girl deserves a million tears to be shed for her. She deserves a grave covered with purple forget me nots. She deserves so much more than this.