Dividing Our Sorrows

We lost our Birl today. 

He was a cat that was more like a person than some people I know. Left behind by someone, as a stray, he chose us to be his new family. Well, first me, but then Clint, whom he believed to be another, larger cat. He and Clint were true buddies. My boys. We'd have group hugs almost every morning. It was a ritual as we had our coffee and he his breakfast.

Birl followed Clint around like a devoted puppy. He always hugged back when we held him and we're pretty sure Birl understood every word we said to him.

I can't accept our Birl is gone. He was the best cat in the world. He was our constant companion, garden guardian, most excellent snuggler, lover of ear kisses, and so much a part of our daily lives he leaves a hole the size of Texas in our hearts.

I've never known a cat so social, loving, dignified, handsome, and fun. Like Clint and I, Birl loved "outside" best. He and I spent many hours in the yard, both of us covered in dirt. He loved to roll in the dirt. Outside won't be the same without him.

Often he'd come into our office covered in dust and plant matter. He'd jump up on one of our desks, leaving dirty paw prints in his wake and purr as if to say, "Come on outside, it's an awesome day!" He was so happy when summer finally came after long winters spent dreaming of chipmunks and lizards.

Birl loved hard, played hard, and fought hard. But it was a big-ass coyote that caught him off guard before dawn this morning and he took our Birl away from us.

What will we do without our Birl? Who will snuggle up to the other side of Clint to keep him warm on cold nights? Who will lay in our laps with a healing purr when we are sick or sad? Oh my, we miss you so much Birly. May your spirit come home to us soon.