My best friend

I grew up in an abusive household. My father was a mean drunk, and my mother was never home. After years of beatings we fled from my father when I was 6 and soon after adopted a black & white kitten, and his sister. Previously, he was born into a home that didn't want him, they tied him up in a garbage bag and threw him away. His life was saved by my mother, who heard his cries. I felt more connected to this cat than any person. Over the years, I didn't form any lasting friendships. I was alone. Except for this cat, my only friend, his name was Bert.

Years go past, relentless bullying didn't seam so horrible with Bert at home. He always knew when I was upset, and how to calm me down. I would spoil him and grew to see him like a child. But as the bullying became less frequent, the less I needed him for support.

Two weeks ago, he was suddenly experiencing chest problems and was collapsing. Heart disease. We needed to drain fluid from his chest cavity every other day, it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair for him to suffer, it wasn't fair for me to lose him. We needed to put him down. It was unbearable. When his body went limp, it was like all of my bad childhood memories were flooding back. I have never been more depressed.

Presently, I have been recovering from my best friend's death through exercise. His sister isn't fairing as well, she has become very clingy and is never more than an arm's length away.


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