Two nights ago my cat Tom died. I've been wanting to post something here as a tribute but it is really hard to accomplish this without breaking down into complete woe. No other word for it but old school, quasi-biblical woe.
Tom was my guy. He was my best friend and he had my back in ways that absolutely amazed me and solidified the idea that he had a very human emotional intelligence, and that he felt about me exactly how I felt about him. No offense to Lily, who also died recently, or Baby who is happy living in Ohio now, but Tom was my favorite.
Tom died in my arms, on my living room floor. I had my cheek against his abdomen and actually felt his life leave his body. It was haunting and terrible and magnificent, to know that my best friend died in my arms, knowing that I loved him.
My girlfriend Kirsten is new to our life, but just as I have fallen so completely for her so too did Tom; he made it known from the moment they met that not only did he approve of her but that he loved her. And she loved him. She was there with Tom and I when he passed, and the connection I saw between them - especially at the end - was beautiful beyond most of what I have seen in this life.
I will miss Tom for the rest of my life. The following were the three things I played shortly after his passing to try and honor him. The first because it is the saddest song I know, the second because Tom is short for Thompson, as in Hunter S., and the third because, well, it should be obvious.