Monday, August 26, 2013

You Are Already Missed - Felix

It is with a heavy heart that I share this post with you. On Saturday, Felix left this world to be with the angels, and I lost an important part of my life. 

Felix was the most loving, intuitive, and compassionate soul I have ever met - it just so happened that his soul was housed in the body of a cat.

Felix was six months old when we first brought him home. My husband and I had decided on a spontaneous trip to the shelter. We hadn't intended to bring a pet home that day, and had discussed visiting with the dogs to give them some attention. We never made it to the see the dogs.  Felix made sure of that. He was a bundle of love, from the moment I picked him up and out of the cage, he cuddled himself in my arms and purred like a fine car tuned-up and ready to race. He placed his paw gently on the side of my face and leaned in to brush his cheek to mine. I was sold. We adopted him on the spot.

Felix earned his spot as an important member of the family every day since that first day. He comforted my husband when his Dad had a quadruple bypass, somehow knowing that he needed the support. A paw on my husband's leg at just the right moment was all it took. On another ocassion, Felix  rescued one of our fish who had flopped out of the tank and onto the floor. Most cats would have devoured the fish instead of coming to it's rescue, but not Felix. And when my son was born, the fear was that Felix might get jealous. We weren't sure how he would react to a baby in the house. He surprised us again, and after getting over the initial transition of no longer being an "only child", Felix became my son's protector. If the baby cried, Felix came to get us to ensure that he got what he needed - a bottle, diaper change, or what not.

On many occasions, Felix became a contributor to my writing as well. He'd sit beside my laptop as I typed away, the best kind of writing company - quiet and intent as I read my work outloud. There were a few times when he'd walk across the keyboard and add his own touch to my manuscript. He preferred when I wrote in silence, not liking the Loon Wilderness CD I'd often play, shaking his ears as if the sound of it hurt.

In the past few weeks, Felix was feeling his age. He turned 17 this month, and his body was giving out. After injuring his front leg, he just couldn't recover. When he no longer continued his usual routine of putting the family to bed - my son first, then me, and then my husband - we had an inkling that something wasn't right. When he stopped eating, we knew the end was near. And on Saturday, Felix waited for us to return, waited for his family to be by his side, and then he left us very peacefully.

It is hard to write this, and I have tears in my eyes as I do. For those of you who met Felix, you know how special he was. The stories above only bring to life a small portion of what made him so special.

So, I end with a message to Felix: You are already missed. You completed our home, and without you there is an emptiness here. Rest in peace my dear friend, may we meet again some day in the hereafter.