For Luigi

Dear Luigi, I don’t really know how to start this one for you buddy, but I know what I aim to achieve. To remember how good and cute a little cat could be. I lay beside you brushing your hair, your soft, fluffy, black coat, all while shedding a few tears. There are knots underneath your belly and lower neck now, grooming became harder when Donna went away. You sure did persist though, you may have even become softer, more emotional. Your coat was magnificent. Your deep green eyes, your beautiful pupils. As I stroke your fur, you turn your head to me. I think you somewhat know, or you understand why. We met about 18 years ago, those dates are a bit skewed, it could be anywhere from when I was six months old, to when I turned three. We arrived to this house, and there you and Donna were. You were with your mother; she was a feisty one. We met when you got caught in my soccer net, the little plastic fences, with the nylon net. You poor thing, you tangled yourself in it. Papa let you go, he cut you out, and you ran. Maybe, just maybe, you getting caught in my net is what bonded us, maybe even on a soul level. Later, we took you and Donna in, you always had the choice to leave. Yet, every morning and night, with a few exceptions, you arrived for breakfast and dinner. And for sixteen years, you and Donna lived together in our backyard. Donna was always more affectionate, she liked pets, and attention. You always ran away when people got too close, and yet still, sometimes you came by and brushed your legs along my legs as I sat on the wooden bench beside the back door. You always loved the sun, laying down in its warmth, a deep sleeper. And your pots, sitting in all those dirty things, the rocks by the outside lighting, the garden. You loved being outdoors. You would sometimes disappear for days, sometimes we worried, and sometimes we knew you would be back, always bringing home some sort of surprise. Rats, decapitated, gutted, spread across the backyard and driveway. Presents… I know you wandered, but I always wondered how far? Did you ever see the ocean, feel the salty breeze? Did you see the sun rise across the water; did you feel how bright it shone? Maybe, just maybe you can tell me everything I would like to know. I’ve seen you in the school up the hill, I’ve seen you stare out at the road at the front of the house, and I’ve witnessed you jump onto the bins at the back, hop up onto the wall, and walk across the roof of the garage to go next door. You’re a cool cat. Before we renovated, I heard stories of you sleeping on the back balcony, climbing higher then before. God, I wish I saw it. As time went on, you began picking fights you couldn’t win, yet you always somehow won? I’ve seen you fight dogs, dogs who ran up the driveway trying to attack you. You ran at first, and in a feat of acrobatics and Olympians would dream for, you did a three-sixty, clawing the dog's face, all while remaining on your feet and running away. Amazing! You met your match with that possum though. The aftermath was us wandering through the rain, trying to find you. We found you out the back in the neighbours, you didn’t want to be caught. We persisted, caught you and took you to the vet, it was serious buddy. I think that’s where your affection for us grew a lot. You became more relaxed. Soon again, your infection came back, and the vet shaved your forehead, draining pus through straws in your head. Yuck! You got better though, and you began sleeping inside, you became an official member of the family. Poor Donna, began to deteriorate, her old age and blindness caught up to her, until she could no longer cope. I know you’ll get to see her again, tell her I said hi, and that I love and miss her. Maybe she can even help you undo your knots on your belly! All those adventures you’ve had with us these last two years, peeing on the floor, haha. You sure pissed Papa off. Sleeping in Mummy’s bed, even sitting on my bed. The games we played with your little string, you trying to hold onto it. You sure don’t look or act like someone close to twenty. But now, now you’re a bit unwell, kidney failure. I hope you had a lot of fun, I hope you loved your time with us, I’m not sure how I’m meant to feel, or what I can do. I’ve never not had you by my side. I don’t know my life before you, and I can’t imagine it after. You’re a good boy, and I’d gladly clean pee-covered floors for the rest of my life to keep you with me. Tomorrow, I’m gonna make sure you have a good day. And I hope when the time comes, you’re happy, and content. I hope you had a good life, a great life. Maybe, and I hope we get to meet again. Then, maybe I can tell you all the stories I’m yet to experience. Because, I certainly loved our story. I’ll miss your golden brown glow in the summer, the way my hands ran through your fur, the way you pulled your ears back when I brushed across the back of your head. The way you licked my fingers, smelled them, and pushed your face across the palm of my hand. I’ll miss the way your head pushed against my hand as I scratched your neck. The way you never meowed, except for in the morning when you cried out wanting to come inside, often walking around the outside of the house to wake up everyone. I won’t forget the way you made a ‘brrt’ sound. Similar to a chair quietly being dragged across the floor, the sound of a small fart, but a cuter version. Making the noise, when Papa let you inside, as a ‘Thank you’, the way it came out when I startled you, or reached down to pat you. It’s almost like your ‘hello’. Luigi, you’ll always have a friend in me, none of them will ever love you the way I do. As the years go by, our friendship will never die. I promise to dedicate part of my story to you. I love you so much Luigi, Love, Julian