Dear Tommy

You came into my life during the hardest time I had ever lived through, after I had lost a kitten who was only six months old. You arrived with the name Gabbana because you had a little twin who looked just like you, named Dolce. You were only a month old when you came home. You didn't eat very much because you were the smallest of your mother's kittens. But if there was one thing you taught me from that very first day, it was that you fought harder than anyone to stay alive.

You loved to play when you were a baby. You were always running underneath the furniture, sneaking out of the house at night, leaving my sister and me to search the entire block for you. But we always found you—late at night, hidden behind some rock or eating grass somewhere—but we found you. Until one day I got tired of searching and told my sister, “Leave him outside and let's see if he comes back.” We closed the door, and a little while later we heard you meowing. That was when we knew how quickly you learned, how well you adapted, and, most importantly, that you would never stay outside again.

You always wanted to be the center of attention. Whenever people gathered at the house, you would place yourself right in the middle of everyone, almost like you were the table, and stay there so every person in the room could see you. If one of us walked to the store, you followed. If someone was in the kitchen, you were there. You were always so present in our lives.

Even though you couldn't speak to us beyond a meow, you learned to move your bowl when you wanted food and your water dish when you wanted water. When you wanted to go outside, you would touch one of our doors until somebody let you out. When you wanted to come in during the middle of the night, you climbed up to the kitchen window and greeted Mom so she would let you in, then ran around to the front door. The way you learned to communicate with us always amazed me. Watching you adapt always felt incredible.

Because of you, I learned that cats really do have seven lives. You spent most of your life living with an immune deficiency. Cats can go very quickly with that illness, but somehow you always held on. I don't know how you did it, but you kept coming out victorious. You lived through kidney problems, being hit by a car, and more fights than I can count that left your skin torn—and still, there you were.

I remember so clearly when the car hit you and we thought we were going to have to let you go. You looked at us with a face that seemed to beg for one more chance. So we gave it to you. And with that stubborn desire to live, you taught us that when you truly want something, you fight for it.

During those almost eleven years, I grew so much with you. When I was sick, sad, or discouraged, you slept beside me. When I was in danger, you stayed beneath my feet. Whenever anything happened, you were there, almost as if you were an angel. You always took care of me in ways I could never fully take care of you. You always gave me the best of yourself, even when maybe I couldn't give you the best of me. You were always grateful.

Maybe during your short life, at least in human years, you taught me more than I realized. I learned how to love without depending. That you can love someone without needing to depend on them emotionally. You taught me that even with a heart that is a little closed off, there is always room to show affection.

You taught me to be independent and observant. That sometimes you have to understand things according to where they come from, and know when to fight and when to simply sit and wait. You taught me that being grateful doesn't mean you don't know when to show your claws. You taught me that you never hurt the ones who are loyal to you. Because even when you played rough with me, you never used your claws.

You showed me what it feels like to be accepted and loved for exactly who I am. No superficiality. No vanity. Just affection freely given, attention, and, above all, your time.

Maybe today I have to say goodbye to you. You were my friend, my refuge, my everything, during a time when I probably felt like I had nothing. You watched me complete every stage of my life. You watched me grow and eventually take flight to another country without you. But every time I came back, you welcomed me exactly the same as before.

Maybe human lives are simply too long, or yours was simply too short, but you will always be in my heart. I think God, life, the universe, or whatever exists out there, was generous with me. I always felt like I didn't deserve a soul like yours beside me. And still, I had the fortune and the honor of having you.

I hope I was worthy of what you deserved. I hope you were happy with me. I hope wherever you're going, you fly very high. And if there is such a thing as another life, I hope somehow we find each other again.

I hope that during those eleven years, your soul was happy. I wish I could have been beside you before you left, but I am grateful that the last time I saw you, you were still in your better days. I hope that wherever your soul goes next, the universe gives you everything you deserve.

Thank you for always being with me.

Even after writing all of this, it is still difficult to say the final word. Because even though I know that wherever you're going, you'll be better now, I will always remember you.

You will always be in my heart.

Always.

Until we meet again.

Thank you for making me so happy while I had you beside me.

Have a good journey, my little cat.