Their Little Beauty (MxMxM+)

Loss.

This isn't another chapter of Briar's story, so feel free to skip and wait for the next upload. See you then!

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Uh, for anyone who did stay, I can't really explain why I wanted to post this. Maybe it just feels like I want to share the life of my amazing cat, who is unfortunately no longer with us.

His name was Squiggles. Not the most normal name, but my mum had always wanted to name a cat Wiggles, but settled for Squiggles once we got him at my declaration it was a cooler name.

Which it is.

As a kitten, he was incredibly skittish. He would scurry under our wicker chair, climb up inside it and hide. But, as he got used to us, we got to see his real personality.

Not much of a playful cat, we only had his kitten age to truly enjoy messing around with toys together. He never liked catnip, always ignoring the toys containing it. And when he grew up, we got...

A hunter.

The amount of dead birds, mice and rabbits- yes, rabbits - that I've burried is more than I can count. Although, thankfully, he did bring home a few alive ones we managed to save after chasing them around the house. Including two very alive, very scared, un-domesticated bunnies from the nearby fields, which was very challenging.

Rabbits are surprisingly nimble.

But that was his way of thanking us, of providing for us, and letting us know he was happy being part of our family. In a way, it was honouring to be part of his instinctual act.

Never looking like much of a tom cat, he kept his kitten-like face shape, appearing more feminine which we found adorable. He also disliked pretty much all unknown cats, so he didn't have many friends. But that was okay, he had our other cat, Bella, and after she went missing, we got Harley. Our big chunky doggo.

And although he kept batting this new, strange, huge black dog on the nose when he tried to sniff the little ginger ninja, they soom became friends.

But Squiggles had personality: a grump. He would act as though he didn't like the dog friend we brought into the family, but once night fell he would waltz straight into the large dog bed (ignoring his own 2 cat beds, multiple piles of blankets and sofas), and curl up right beside Harley- who would often leave and let the ginger terroriser steal his warm spot.

But then they would lay next to each other, paws touching or backs flat together, Squiggles sometimes snuggling up into his 'not' friend's belly.

Sadly though, much too soon and very suddenly, he changed.

Not long turned nine years old, about ten days ago he started acting odd. Sleeping more, not going out, ignoring his food etc. We thought oh no, he's beginning his grandad years already.

And after a few days he seemed to perk up, going back to getting under my feet in the kitchen while cooking chicken or opening tuna tins- which, yes, he sometimes got a sneaky treat of. Don't worry, it was in spring water, not brine.

But then, three days ago, he got worse. No longer having the energy to go outside and us worried that if he did, he wouldn't be able to jump over the wall, we kept him inside. He stopped coming for cuddles, no longer putting hair in my mouth or nose. He stopped eating completely, whereas before he was at least nibbling pieces of wet food and biscuits. He stopped... walking. Only moving when necessary. And his eyes looked... just not like him. He wasn't Squiggles, our affectionate, grumpy hunter.

And yesterday, he began vomiting. As it was a Sunday and there was no clear emergency (seizures, blood in anything he passed, crying in pain or passing out) we opted to wait until this morning, where we got an appointment for this afternoon.

During his examination, the very friendly vet told us she found a lump. And from its feel, location and enlarged kidneys, she suspected cancer of the lymph glands. We were told we could get blood tests to confirm, and later surgeries, but... our boy couldn't do it. He could barely stand on the scales, fatigued, uncomfortable and having lost drastic weight extremely fast, we decided it was far less cruel to say goodbye before he was crying in pain. We would never be selfish enough to force him to stay longer than was humane.

I won't go into the details of his passing because it is never a great experience. But he went quick, painless and with two loving people by his side the entire time. And now, he will be cremated and scattered in the garden of their crematorium, laid to rest with the other animals there.

We hope he will finally find a friend there who also enjoys hunting and bullying poor doggies.

This is the first time I've experienced loss. Estranged from all but my mum, sister and her children, I've not been close to any of my family since childhood so this is a very odd period of time for me. No one I care about has died and as I'm naturally guarded, hearing about neighbours passing only made me think oh, that's sad. Hope their family is okay.

The minute the vet said she found a lump, I knew. We all think it- the big C. And I started crying. I've cried a lot today, so much my nose and head hurts, but now home, I feel oddly okay.

I don't know if I've not really realised just yet what it means to have my lap buddy gone, my furry water bottle not here to keep me warm or shove my phone out of my hand. Or maybe saying goodbye, crying for him and getting to kiss his head one last time was enough for me to feel... okay.

I still get moments where I begin to tear up, but I'm okay. It hurts to know he won't greet me at the back door- even if that meant giving me a new gift to bury. But I'm okay.

I don't know if the fact that I'm writing this right now, already planning on what manga to read tonight and the food I want for tea is normal, or if it makes me unfeeling in some way, but I've always been the kind of person who takes bad news, reacts, then let's it sit in the back of my mind. And for whatever reason, unless I have a close bond with someone, it doesn't usually bother me all that much.

But Squiggles... he pissed me off sometimes, getting booted out the back door to get his energy out or if he got a little rough while playing, a gentke shove off of my lap. But he was always around. With me while I have a smoke outside, walking behind me to the little village shop, sitting at my feet while I cook, jumping up on my lap after eating his fill and sleeping with me until he stood on my face at some random AM time- his way of saying human, I must shit. Open the door to nature or I shall scream and tear apart the sofa.

As much as the little bastard annoyed me... he was my little bastard. My friend, family, and just feeling his weight in my lap, having him drool during ear scratches or pin my hand in place to lay on... it was all so important to me. And I never really realised how much until now.

Tomorrow I might be a mess, waking up and opening the back door for him to come get breakfast only to realise oh yeah. Or I'll nod to myself, oh yeah, then carry on getting the dog and mother fed.

But either way, as I have no IRL friends to share in his memories with, I really wanted to share it with you. Whoever is reading this, it means a lot that now, another person knows about my lovely boy.

Update wise for Briar's story, the way I'm feeling right now, I can't see any delay's in writing. I'm okay. So over the next couple of days, I expect to put out another chapter.

Until then, my Little Lovelies, thank you for being here with me and getting to know, Squiggles.

The best grumpy and cuddly bastard in the world🧡.