I wanted to walk you up the stairwell to heaven.


I wanted to be there, right beside you when you left, so that I could lift you up, feel your soft fur against me as I walked us up to heaven, just like old friends. You were my first, if you had never known it; my first love, my first best friend … We would have left together, had God waited a little longer.


I console myself with the thought that God’s giving you a better life up there, that He’s stroking you as you sit on his lap, watching us grieve from above. After all, life gives and life takes, doesn’t it?


If God had waited a few years, I would have happily breathed my last just to walk you up to heaven, just like a father walks his daughter down the aisle. My world shattered when you left, and the only thought in the darkest recesses of my mind is that you left because of my stupidity; my carelessness.


Or perhaps it was simply time, and God had merely called you home; your true home with Him, and the place that we’ll all meet again someday.


I can’t bring myself to stop the tears that roll down my cheeks in torrents as I wrap you carefully in white. The sight of your face brings me to tears, and I struggle to stop them from spilling over onto your smooth fur. The next thing that comes to mind makes the tears flow harder.


I hadn’t had the chance to send you off well.


The send-off I’d given you was meagre; even mediocre at best, with cardboard boxes, and the simple orange and yellow flowers that grew like crazy in my garden. The prettiest thing that I had possibly given you as you left was a purple leaf.


I hope you can forgive me, because it’s all I can do for you.

So, I’m sorry, and all I want to tell you is;





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