One year ago, we lost our precious Sunny.

It’s incredible how I much I miss him.  I thought it’d be easier, as time went on, to deal with these emotions of not having him around.  But, it hasn’t been easier.  Sure, you go on with your day — you have the good ones and the bad, but when it comes down to it, the hurt is still so tremendous.

I miss that fluffy guy so much.

Tomorrow is six months since Sunny passed away.

I miss his precious face so incredibly much. Our home isn’t complete without him. I still find myself apologizing to him for what happened. It’s still the only way I know how to cope with him not being around. I’d give anything to have him back.

We’ve been using the fireplace these last few days. Sunny loved the fireplace. He would always sit directly in front of the fire; the light off of the fire would bounce off of his orange fur essentially making him glow. I miss seeing that. I miss the way he enjoyed the fireplace; I miss the way he enjoyed life.

I just got up to get a tissue and decided to check up on Macky. He was laying on the bed with one leg in the air and cleaning his crotch. Looks like we’ll be washing the sheets again. But that’s Macky. And I’m so grateful to have him as a constant reminder of his brother, Sunny. They’re such opposites, but yet so similar. In a way, Sunny is still very much alive through Macky (except when Macky is bad, which is quite often).

We miss you very much, Sunny. There’s not a day that goes by when we’re not thinking about you or talking about one of our many wonderful memories of you. Tell god I said what’s up and tell Santa not go be too hard on Macky this year.

I didn’t know where this entry was going when I started it, and I don’t know how to end it now. I suppose I’ll just end it here.  I leave you with a picture of Sunny.  He’s covered in ash from the fireplace — one of his goofiest moments ever.

We miss you very much, buddy.

A Month

It’s been a month since you’ve passed, Sunny. For the most part, I can say that the days are getting easier to get through. But it’s actually a lot easier to say that than to actually feel like that. I do have my ups and my downs over what happened; there’s no doubt about it. I’m still trying to piece together everything that happened, and I think that’s the hardest part. I suppose I’m comfortable knowing you’re in a better place; probably chilling with Romeo somewhere up there. But I still have trouble grasping the fact that such a beautiful young cat had to go so early. I just don’t understand it. Not one bit of it. And that’s the hardest part of it all.

I understand you got sick and that’s why we had to make that decision to put you to sleep. It was the right thing to do; you couldn’t suffer any longer. But still, how could such a wonderful and innocent cat like you get that sick in the first place? There wasn’t an ounce of wrong in you. There was absolutely no reason for any of the events that transpired. I have difficulty with that.

Every morning before I leave for work I go to your bed and tell you how much I miss you. I suppose it’s my way of getting some form of comfort out of all of this. I know you’re not physically there, but you’ll always be in that bed in our hearts and minds. And that bed will always be there to remind us about you.

We’ve kept your favorite toy in that bed; birdy on a string. No one has touched it since you passed. But the other morning, we randomly heard it chirping. Of course your brother finally found it and decided to make it his after all this time (and lets not forget that he was once afraid of the thing, too). It was a good feeling hearing it chirp; it certainly reminded us of you and how you used to constantly play with it. Later that evening as we went to bed, your mom went to lay down only to discover that birdy on a string was now on her side of the bed. We had a good laugh about it, too. But I can’t help and think that Macky put it there to comfort us even more.

I’m still so sorry for everything that happened to you, Sunny. I have this guilt on my shoulders that it was all my fault and every day I’m continually apologizing to you in my head. I just cannot still comprehend everything and I don’t think I ever will, either. I hope the G-O-D is treating you well up there — he’s got a lot he can learn from you.

We picked up your remains the other night, Sunny.  It was much harder than I had expected.  While it does feel good knowing you’re home, I still cannot fathom that you’re actually gone.  It’s been just over a week since you passed; I want to say I’m okay, but I’m not.  They gave us a piece of paper with your paw print on it.  It’s by far the sweetest thing.  We cannot wait to be able to frame it and have another item to remember you by.

The hospital gave us a poem in your box.  Your mom tried handing it to me the other night to read, but I just couldn’t do it.  I felt bad pushing her away with it, but I just didn’t know how else to deal with these emotions.  I don’t know if I hurt her by not reading it.  I was just entirely filled with emotions that night.  I haven’t been able to fully cope with what occurred.  One day, I’m okay, the next, and I just break down.  I’ve been trying to be there for your mother as much as possible, though.  She misses you terribly.  I miss you terribly.  Macky misses you terribly, as well, even though he is standing right next to me shaking his paw up and down because his favorite ball is stuck within his paw.  He’s crazy, I know.

We’ve put your remains on your little bed, right next to the “reserved for boo-boo” sign.  It’s certainly comforting to know you’re resting in one of your favorite spots.  Though, to be honest, I’m quite nervous that Macky will find a way to open your box and proceed to use you as his litter box.

Speaking of your brother, Macky and I have become quite good at playing fetch.  He improves every day, and makes us think more and more each day that he’s actually a dog.  We picked up a remote control mouse to keep him occupied while we’re trying to relax.  So far, he loves it.  Though, I do think he just misses being chased by you.  Or just misses chasing you.  Either way, he misses you.  Mowie, on the other hand, just wants to eat.  But what else is new.

Rest well, buddy.  We miss you.

Dearest Sunny

It seems like just yesterday we were on our way home from our cruise to pick up two adorable little kittens. You two were so tiny, and so fluffy, but best of friends. Both of you quickly adapted to condo life and found instant spots on the bed, under my desk, and on the couch.

The both of you were inseparable. When you guys were tiny little kittens, you would climb into a ball together and sleep in the corner underneath my desk. As you got older, the cuddling did decrease, but you still managed to fall asleep together throughout the place — on the bed, on our computer chairs, the ottoman, etc.

And then you guys found the eagle’s nest; the area above our kitchen that you guys would climb up to. At first, we were a nervous wreck with you guys up there. Well, we were more nervous for Macky. He’s very fragile, so we could definitely see him falling off the ledges. Actually, he did fall off and surprisingly, he lived to tell the tale. But coming home and opening the door to find the sweetest orange cat dangling his head down looking at us may just be the greatest welcoming we’ve ever encountered. I miss that so very much about you, Sunny. You were so sweet, and even the times when you were extremely tired, you’d still hang your little face over to say hello. And then promptly go back to sleep. I keep expecting to come home to see your little face there, and it breaks my heart that I will never see that again. Sunny, just so you know, Macky refuses to go up there these days. He hasn’t been up there, not at all.

But thank god for the countless pictures. I am so fortunate to have so many of you; especially the one’s up there in the eagle’s nest. And the ones of you on the couch, in several different sleep positions. And the ones of you in the bathroom sink, or the ones of you looking at yourself in the mirror. And the ones of you tucked underneath our covers in the bed. We have so many pictures of you, and I think those pictures will be the thing that gets me through all of this.

Whenever I think about you, I keep apologizing to you. I am so truly sorry for what you went through. I am so truly sorry that you are no longer with us — though I’m sure you’re still watching over Macky trying to tell him between right and wrong (and so far, he’s been very good). You were such a young cat who didn’t deserve any of this. You were this amazing social butterfly who loved company. I’ve never seen a cat so anxious to be around people. You loved being the center of attention.

There was this one time when we had people over. They were teasing you with the bird on the string toy and making you go around, and around, until you were dizzy. Rebecca and I felt so bad for you; we didn’t think you realized how dizzy you were getting. So, we scooped you up while everyone was laughing and brought you to the bedroom. We walked back into the living room to tell everyone the fun was over and to be kind to Sunny. Sure enough, who came trotting down the hallway wanting more? You, Sunny. They all cheered for you; you were having the time of your life with them.

I’m having the fireplace cleaned in the next week or so. Every time I look at that area, all I can think about is how you go into such a mess by being curious. You went from being bright orange to Macky-black; covered from head to toe in ash. We wanted to be mad, but we couldn’t. You had such a cute look on your face as we tried cleaning you up. I think that black ash stayed on your fur for several days after that — Macky swore for days that he had a black brother.

We haven’t touched your brown bed in the bedroom. We put a little sign on it last week saying “reserved for boo-boo” when we were anticipating your arrival home. I don’t think we’ll ever take that sign off of it. It’ll always be reserved for you; it’ll always be your bed.

Sunny, there is so much more I want to say to you. But the tears are overwhelming my eyes, and I’ll have to save that more for another time. Plus, Macky wants to play. And you know how he gets when he wants to play. So, lets consider this part one of an ongoing conversation.

I miss you so much, buddy. This is by far the hardest time in my life. I do find comfort, however, in the fact that I know you’re no longer suffering. We’re always thinking about you, and we’ll never forget about you.

Until next time, Sunny, tell God to go easy on the earthquakes in China.

We put Sunny to sleep this morning. Between his suffering and the medication not helping, we knew it was the best thing for him. There’s a lot I want to write about him, but I just can’t bring myself to do it just yet. Thanks again to all those who have expressed their concern for him; we really appreciated it.

As we were approaching bed time last night, Macky got scared from Rebecca’s feet under the covers. I suppose he didn’t know what it was, why it was moving, and how he would ever survive FEET UNDER COVERS. However, Macky ended up being so scared, and so jumpy, that he refused to be on the bed all night. And when I’d plop him on it, he’d walk around ever so cautious as if this was it for him. We tried showing him there was nothing wrong with the bed; he wouldn’t have it.

Rebecca and I, not afraid of feet under the covers, fell asleep shortly after.

I had a dream last night that left me rather uncomfortable and confused. I had woken up to see our Sunny laying towards the end of the bed — almost near where Macky had been so afraid. Sunny was just laying there, like he normally does, looking down upon Macky playing. He was sitting turkey-cat style, purring and breathing loudy, with his ears back; ready to pounce on Macky. I remember sitting up in bed and going to pet him when he ever so slightly looked up at me with his eyes. I guess at that point, I fully woke up from my sleep. I immediately turned on one of our lamps and just kind of sat there, puzzled. I ended up walking into the living room, and sitting on the ottoman for a few moments while I tried to grasp what actually occurred.

I don’t really know how to take the dream. I want to believe that Macky’s incident earlier in the night is related to my dream. I feel as if it’s more than just a coincidence, or that it simply triggered my dream. There must be more to everything; it just feels that way. But everything still left me rather confused. Was it my subconscious trying to comfort me with everything that is occuring? Was it god (gasp, I said god) trying to tell me to prepare for the worst? Was it Sunny asking us to hold on longer and give him more time to fight?

At the least, even if it was only a dream, I got to see Sunny, at home on our bed, extremely happy. I’d give anything to have him home, and healthy, again.

Our place has been very different without Sunny around. Sunny is typically a very quiet cat — so quiet that you forget he’s around half the time. But the last week or so, while he’s been in the hospital, has been very different. It’s almost too quiet. I keep waiting for that little face, with his ears back, to come trotting down the hallway. I know it will come soon enough; Sunny just has to fight very hard and pull through. But I sure do miss him.

His bed has remained untouched since we brought him into the emergency room. Prior to these events, Macky would sleep in Sunny’s bed from time to time. Macky hasn’t touched it. He doesn’t even go near it. We have this area above our kitchen that Macky and Sunny climb up into — it’s their little “eagles nest” that they’re always sleeping in. We put a blanket up there to make it comfortable for them, and they would spend hours up there. Unfortunately, Macky hasn’t been up there since Sunny has been in the hospital. I used to love coming home from work, opening the door and looking up to see their little sleepy faces hanging over. I miss those faces together; I’m sure Macky misses his brother, too.

I think I feel for Macky the most. He doesn’t seem depressed, but you can tell he misses Sunny. As crazy as it sounds, I think Macky and I are dealing with this in a very similar manner. I’ve continually looked to Macky for comfort these last few days, and I feel as if he definitely knows why. I’ve noticed he’s done the same with me, too — actually sleeping on my lap the other day. The other morning, when we were expecting the worse, I was crying in the bathroom when I looked over and there was Macky. He was standing on the toilet, his head tilted slightly, and being ever so curious about my emotions. But he knew exactly why I was crying; he was just as concerned for Sunny as I was.

Rebecca and I held Sunny the other afternoon while at the hospital. He was too weak to move, but Rebecca was able to get him to purr. We’ve been so afraid he would think that we abandoned him. But hearing him purr confirmed otherwise. He knew who we were, and showed us his happiness of seeing us by purring. It was probably one of the happiest moments of my life.

And it was at that moment, too, that I realized I loved Rebecca even more than I thought I did (I mean, I love her a lot, but at that moment, I realized I loved her a lot a lot — if that’s possible). I’m so happy we’re both very animal crazy, and that we’ll do anything and everything to give Sunny the support he needs.

I’m heading to the hospital tomorrow to see Sunny. I cannot wait to see that little bundle of sunshine.

Sunny is still in the hospital. We’re told his temperature has returned to normal and has stayed that way all day. We’re also told he hasn’t vomited since early Monday morning. This is a huge step for Sunny, but we still have very far to go. We really need to get him to eat. Sunny hasn’t done so since Thursday night, and by not eating, we’re possibly getting ourselves into more issues. We’re hopeful, though, with these baby steps today (no fever, not throwing up), he’ll make the progression into eating. Sunny eating would be absolutely huge.

It’s been a rough few days for everyone. Rebecca and I took off work today to try to gain some much needed strength. For the most part, it helped, but we’re still very concerned for our Sunny. I cannot even imagine what’s going through Sunny’s mind through all of this. They hospital says he’s not in too much pain, but more like a discomfort. But to be away from home, away from your parents, and your crazy brother and sister? That must be very scary for him. I know he’s in great hands right now, but we still want to try to go visit him either tomorrow or Wednesday.

Macky has missed his brother big time. I don’t want to say he’s depressed, but he definitely looks for his brother from time to time. He’ll just walk around the place meowing over and over again. Macky knows his brother’s missing; he knows there’s something wrong. Macky slept with me on the couch today, as in actually fell asleep in my lap. This is something he NEVER does. It made me really happy, almost like he was comforting me. He was purring up a storm, too, so I’m sure he felt comfort as well. I cannot wait to reunite the both of them; they’re going to be so incredibly happy.

Thanks for everyone’s concern these last few days — all of your thoughts and prayers do mean a lot to us. Comments are formally open on Sunny’s site, mackymowiesunny.com, for those interested.