Last night I had a dream about Tiger. I dreamt of exactly how warm he was, how heafty he was to lift, how cute and kittenish he could be. I dreamt of his purr, his cute "meow", his way of playing. I dreamt of petting him, picking him up, playing with him, loving him.
...I miss him. It breaks my heart to know he won't be waiting for me when I get home. That I'll never see him being all cute and Tigerish ever again. That he'll never sleep with me and make me contort into weird positions on my bed. I won't see him chasing the bugs and the birds, won't see him fighting with Terra. Won't hear him begging for food.
When I woke up, I was sad, but I didn't cry. I thought I was finally getting over it. But now I realize that I'm not. My last memory of him won't be of my parents taking him away and not bringing him back, but of the plunger going into his foreleg, and him slowly becoming still. And I hate that. I absolutely hate that.
...I miss him. It breaks my heart to know he won't be waiting for me when I get home. That I'll never see him being all cute and Tigerish ever again. That he'll never sleep with me and make me contort into weird positions on my bed. I won't see him chasing the bugs and the birds, won't see him fighting with Terra. Won't hear him begging for food.
When I woke up, I was sad, but I didn't cry. I thought I was finally getting over it. But now I realize that I'm not. My last memory of him won't be of my parents taking him away and not bringing him back, but of the plunger going into his foreleg, and him slowly becoming still. And I hate that. I absolutely hate that.