People who lose a loved one have different ways to cope with grief. One Facebook user, Deljane Querijero, wrote a heartwarming letter from the point of view of her deceased Cat, Armin.
Hello, I’m Armin and I’m 9 years old. I would have been 10 in August [of 2024] but I would have crossed the rainbow bridge by then. Last Jan. 11, meowmy took me to the vet because I haven’t been eating well for the past few days. During the check-up, the vet
confirmed I had a mass in my abdomen that she was almost certain was cancerous. Meowmy decided against the biopsy and confinement, and instead she asked how she can make my remaining days comfy.
She bought all my meds and tried to force-feed them to me, along with food, a couple of times. As a proud orange, of course I resisted and gave her hell. She then made another painful decision to no longer force-feed me food and meds. The mass is pretty big by now and is pressing against my lungs, [so] I started having difficulty breathing, too. [T]hat’s why she didn’t want to stress me unnecessarily. She saw how fatigued and angry I was
after the last feeding session.
This afternoon, she brought me to a nearby park. We chilled, watched folks walking their [D]ogs and kids playing, and I even rode the swing for the first time. I didn’t leave my carrier. She promised we would come back tomorrow, the day after and until… you know.
I was very healthy, save for the cancer. I was playful, [and] loved climbing trees and bathing under sunlight. I also fought with my brothers Mikasa and Bootsie every once in a while.
Pretty soon I’ll be saying [goodbye] to meowmy. For now, I make her cry every day. Please give your babies a hug.
