Dear Loesje,

We picked you and your brother up one summer morning in August from a farm in the countryside. You were running around the sheep stables, covered in hay. The entire ride home you didn’t make a sound except for one little meow. We named you Lucifurr, which quickly changed to Lucy and then became Loesje.

We fell in love instantly. You crawled onto my lap, laid on your back with your tiny paws and belly up in the air, stared with your big eyes into mine and decided I was your human.

You would always follow me around the house and lure me to the couch for cuddles. You would start “making biscuits” on a blanket and beg me with your eyes to come and sit down. Because my lap was your favorite place to nap. Our favorite activity was ekekek-ing at the birds together. You truly did not like the magpies outside, and they would get the loudest ekekek’s from you. Every evening you would sleep in bed between us, and during cold winter nights you’d crawl under the blankets.

When you were five years old you were diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease. Hereditary and no cure. In a moment my world collapsed. I knew nothing could be done to save you and I was heartbroken.

We enjoyed each other’s company and love to the fullest after your diagnosis, and in a way, you also consoled me as I was already grieving your loss.

We had six months together. Your health declined just as the pandemic started and lockdowns were announced. You passed away in our arms as we held you and told you how much we love you, and what an amazing and sweet girl you are.

The pain of missing you never goes away, but I know that my tears are just love with no place to go anymore.

sdr