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On Loss, Life, Love and Chasing Bubbles
Beautiful for a moment, pop, and it’s gone.
The moment I saw him lying on the floor in front of his food bowl, I knew something was wrong. My chest tightened and a jolt of panic hit my body as I quickly stepped towards him. The open lifeless eyes told me what I had feared was true. I gasped and began to cry, wondering how I would tell my kids that Taco, their beloved 4.5-year-old ginger cat, was dead.
I called my children’s dad, who told them the news. All three of my kids were upset, but my 11-year-old was beyond devastated. Taco, along with his sister Star, are rescues who were both found in a storm drain. Star is a very friendly, easy-going cat, but Taco was quite skittish. However, he closely bonded with my oldest child. They adored each other, and she became his safe place.
Taco was always snuggling with my daughter when she was home. She sleeps with her door closed, and every morning I would find him lying on the carpet outside her door. I would open the door, and he would run in her room, jump on her bed, and snuggle up next to her.
My children’s dad brought our kids to my house, and the kids insisted on seeing Taco. My heart broke as my oldest sat in the basement petting her lifeless cat and sobbing.
