I think that's why losing Sloane is so fucking hard. I picked her. I picked her after months of begging my parents for a new cat. For some reason I thought it was a good idea to get a new cat RIGHT AFTER Marley (Marley is my most famous dead cat-- just ask my best friend. Before we were best friends I thought it was a good idea to tell him about how awesome my dead cat was... I might have been intoxicated, very legally intoxicated. And somehow we still managed to become best friends!) died. That didn't happen which is probably for the best. I did manage to convince them to let me get a cat about three or four months later... and the next day they took me to college.
So Sloane never was my cat, but she was kind of like a sister. A sister that got annoyed when I came home for the weekend. But she was my cat sister. She met my first boyfriend (the one I count as first because technically he's the second). She kept me company when I was home for the summer. She always "said hi" whenever I called my mom. She was at my college graduation party... basically she's existed and been around for most of the important milestones I've been cognizant of so in some way she's associated with those memories.
At least I've still got Maggie. But holy balls when she's gone. I cried on the way to class today, stumbled over words because I accidentally thought of Sloane, and almost canceled my office hours but didn't because leaving my office made her death more real. I'm going to need a week off and lots of tissue when Maggie leaves. See? I can't even say Maggie and the d-word in the same sentence.
I'll love you forever, Sloane! Go find Grandma Darling. She's got your back!
To end on a lighter note, I introduce you to Purrcy, "in the flesh!"