Some say

She was always there for me.

Through break-ups, house moves, failed job interviews, she would sit silently, patiently as I soaked her shoulder with my tears.

I could tell her anything. She showed no judgement, told me no lies.

Every night when I came home and got to bed – however late – she was always there, waiting. Every morning I woke up to her beautiful face greeting mine. So from the moment she entered my life I started every day smiling.

Then one day I decided to go travelling and had to say goodbye to her.

While I was away, she died.

I wasn’t there for her.

I never got to tell her I’m sorry for leaving her.

Sometimes still, in the middle of the night, I think I feel her by my feet.

I don’t talk about her much now.

After all, ‘She was only a cat’, some say.


I originally wrote this about a year after Molly’s death and when I had returned from South America.



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