Abby

I still remember very clearly the face you gave me, your voice, and how you seemed to adore my touch.

It was Sunday night, April 4th, around 8:40 PM. I was about to go to the parking lot when there you were, standing near the trash can. You looked so cute; that's why I stopped walking and gave you a tap. I felt so exhausted that day, and you seemed to lift that feeling just a bit.

But it was only the beginning of many hours that we got to spend together. You followed me all the way to my motorcycle. I knew it was a sign because you not only stood there, but you rested your body on my motor.

So I asked a person nearby—I didn't know who he was, but he seemed very close with the boss—if you were already owned by someone. Deep in my heart, I wanted you to be mine. It felt like heaven when he said you were a stray tat one of the intern had just brought in. With no hesitation, I asked him to give you to me, and he was completely fine with that.

You were so small that I was afraid you might not make it on our way home. It was a 35-minute drive, but surprisingly, you didn't complain. You stayed calm in my lap. I stopped the motor a few times to try and keep you inside my jacket, to keep you warm, but you refused. So you ended up on my lap for the entire 35-minute ride home.

I didn't care how my parents would react to me bringing home another cat. I was a bit worried for Lucy, though, afraid he would lose his "only child" position. But surprisingly, you two immediately got along like long-lost brothers. From then on, the three of us slept, ate, cried, and laughed together. And especially you, Abby, you'd watch me poop and even patiently wait by the door when I took a bath.

I don't know what I'll be now that you're gone; I'm still trying to figure it out. I do know there won't be any more late-night talks with you, no one to suddenly appear at the end of my bed or sleep on my clothes, and no more late-night toothbrushing while dancing to any song I play. No one will ever touch your beautiful brown bed again, because somehow, Lucy's afraid to sleep there.

And there will be no one who sleeps on the cold floor, lying there for hours without moving. There will always be a piece missing in my heart, and I'm sure in Lucy's too. Forever, you are that missing piece, and nothing can ever reconcile that. Abby, wherever you are, if you are still alive, I wish you the happiest life. If you're no longer here, I hope to immediately find your body and bury you in your favorite grassy spot. I know cats won't be in heaven, but I hope you will be among the holy animals that will enter Jannah.

Lucy and I love you so much that we feel we're in the middle of a bleak winter storm, with nothing to wear but our memories.

Mon, August 25 | 2025.