Today is Mojo’s birthday. Well, to be honest, I don't know her exact birthday - she was about three months old when she came home with me on February 1, 1997 and given the name I chose for her, Halloween seemed like the perfect birth date.
I've been thinking of her lately, more so than is usual - Lucy takes up an awful lot of room and couldn't be more different from Mojo (the only thing they have in common is that they're both felines), so despite often having a sense of her, sometimes it's hard to remember details around all the Lucyness. The other day, I was going through some of my pictures and popped into a folder from about a year ago and there she was. My Mojo. And my first thought was holy crap, she has a lot of hair
After six months of a shorthaired cat, I’d forgotten what the long-haired one looked like. And then I went through some more photos and smiled and cried a little. Played the what if game, beat myself up for not somehow knowing sooner, getting her to the vet faster and then I decided to stop that and just remember 13 years of love.
I read the posts I wrote about her, the one written three years ago, the post after the diagnosis and the one I wrote after she died and they made me smile and cry again. And now I remember, I feel her close to me again and it feels as if there are two cats here, one who is warm and the other a shadow, just as she was my shadow in life.
I miss you, my Moocher.