The Best Cat

Note: I originally posted this to Social Media, but it felt appropriate to share here too. 

Yesterday, I had to say goodbye to one of my dearest friends, my constant companion, my little buddy, a member of my family - Stewie (aka Stew, aka Mr. Stew, aka Mr. Stew Stew, aka StewGuy, aka Stewball, aka Stewart the cat). Stewie has been with me more than anyone else throughout my 20’s and 30’s. I can’t even begin to express with words how much I loved my cat. Yesterday spending time with him knowing it was his last day was so difficult, but being home alone without him today is so much harder. I miss him so terribly already.

I say “constant companion” because Stewie has literally been with me nonstop his entire life. Almost every night for the past 13 years, I have gone to sleep with his cuddles and purrs in the bed, and I have woken up to those same cuddles and purrs in the morning. When I’m either working from home, or just home in general (and since I’m kind of a homebody, let’s face it, that’s most of the time), Stewie has always been either on my lap or laying nearby for most of the day and night. When I would get up periodically, Stewie would follow me, usually meowing in his very vocal way. When I traveled, I would miss Stewie terribly because I always expect to sleep next to him most of the night. The world feels like a much lonelier place without his constant presence in my home.

Stewie and I have been through so much together in the past 13 years. Stewie was the first companion I decided to adopt when I first moved out of my mom’s house in Southern IL to Chicago (the only companion I’ve had until we adopted Scout a couple of years ago). He survived moving with me 10 times across 13 years. He was with me throughout numerous heartbreaks, and helped me survive so many things throughout my 20’s. He was always there to cuddle me when I was home, demanding lap time, or at least lying next to me. The last several months I lived in Chicago, and the first couple of years I lived in Minneapolis, I was an extremely lonely person. The only thing that kept me sane, was Stewie’s reassuring cuddles no matter what. And now that Stewie is gone, I feel this immense loneliness. I know last night was just the first night without him, and that things will get easier, but I woke up several times throughout the night expecting Stewie to come cuddle. I woke up this morning expecting cuddles before I started my day. I walk around the house expecting to see (or hear) Stewie in various places, and the silence and lack of his presence is utterly heartbreaking. I can’t stop crying or thinking about him. I can’t stop missing having him nearby.

I never wanted to imagine living in a world without Stewie. I would joke that he would live forever, but part of me actually believed it; or that since he’s always been so healthy, I would at least see him to a very old age. Losing him after 13 years just feels so unfair to me. I thought I had more time. I thought he would get to meet my daughter and be there for her first milestones, just like he has been with me throughout so many of my own milestones. Despite his recent illness, I foolishly thought that I would at least get to have him for one last Christmas. But as much as I wanted to selfishly keep Stewie with me, when he started to take another bad turn for the worse, I knew I had to let him go. It wasn’t fair to let him be in pain, or to keep dragging him out of the house (which he hated) to try to intervene with the various symptoms of his illness, knowing that he was terminal no matter what we did; knowing that I could possibly rob him of the comfort and dignity of passing away in our home versus on the operating table. This is by far the toughest decision I’ve ever had to make.


I’m so incredibly grateful to my husband Zach for being here with me and Stewie during this time; and for Zach’s love, support, and guidance as my partner in making these difficult decisions. Zach and Stewie have had such a great relationship the past five years; our little family unit. Zach has made my life and Stewie’s life so much better. Zach is one of the few people that Stewie warmed up to almost immediately. Stewie really loved Zach, and would often give him cuddles to show it.


What I am most grateful for throughout all of this is that Zach and I were able to spend the last week and a half spoiling Stewie, and that this time was spent over a long holiday weekend where we got extra time at home with him. After Stewie bounced back from his last procedure, we knew we were on borrowed time, so we made sure to make the most of it (albeit, I still thought I would have more than what I received). We treated Stewie to all of his favorite foods (wet food, tuna, and so many treats), let him eat string (we were always worried this would make him sick in the past), treated him to as much tap water as he wanted; we gave him extra cuddles, and extra attention. We put up our Christmas tree early this year, and Stewie got to lie under a real tree one last time. I spent the past week telling Stewie how much I loved him, and all the stories about his life that I could remember in those moments.


This is what I told Stewie his last day – I took time to thank him. I thanked him for all of the cuddles. I thanked him for being with me throughout all of my good times and bad times. I thanked him for being my constant companion. I thanked him for being such a good kitty. I let him know that he was the best cat (because he was). I told him I loved him more times than I can count. I kissed him. I told him stories about himself. I thanked him for giving me that extra week, even though it didn’t feel like nearly enough time and it passed so very quickly. I thanked him for the cuddles and love the night before since I did not know at the time that the following day would be my last day with him.


Stewie was in bad shape his last day, so understandably, he wasn’t much up for cuddles. I pet him, held him, and stayed near him near constantly anyways because I needed to do so. But right as we were about to begin the procedure, he went to the bedroom upstairs and went to my side of the bed. I laid next to him, and he began to purr and kneed the bed (like he’s always done in the past). He cuddled up next to me, allowing me to spoon and pet him, and love on him; one last time. This was such an incredibly precious gift. I’m so grateful I was able to have that one last happy and heart-felt cuddle at the very end. It’s like Stewie knew that I needed it.


In his final moments, as the sedative kicked in, I picked up Stewie, and held him in my arms, petting him on all of his favorite spots, and told him how much I loved him, and that I hope he felt loved. I told him that I would see him again someday. I told him that he was in good hands until then. I desperately hope that those things are true. As we moved to the next phase, I held him in my lap with his little head in my hand, and petting him until the very end because I needed him to know I was there for him; even if he could only vaguely sense me. Then, I carried him in a blanket to the vet’s car, and laid him down one last time, and kissed his little head one last time. I’m so grateful we were able to let him pass away with us in our home, even if being there for those moments was such a difficult thing to witness.


I love you Stewie, I hope you always felt loved. You were the best cat. You were my companion. I will always love you, and I will always miss you.