Sometime between telling her “bye” as I drove to work and when I found her at the base of the back steps, my cat, Twix, died. I’d been calling for her, set her food out, took the dogs out (talked to a neighbor for a bit, even though it was dark), and called for her again.

Usually she’s good at responding, but not tonight. I saw some places where she’d gotten sick on the deck and figured she got into something. And then when I got my flashlight and called her again, I eventually found her. I don’t know if she got into something she shouldn’t have, or was bit by something (considering the sorry state of my yard thanks to my broken mower and months of wild pigs creating holes that would break said mower, it’s very possible), but she didn’t look hurt offhand.

But damn… it hurts knowing she won’t come running up to me for pettings anymore, or for those special treats, or come to work out with me in the shed like she used to, just hanging out in the rafters. No more of that.

I got my shovel and found a spot where a small tree I’d planted last spring died and left the soil loose. Now she can survey her “Queendom” all she wants from now on. She was only about 3.5, maybe 4 years old at the most. I’d anticipated she’d be getting grayer alongside me for several more years, but it wasn’t meant to be.

Twix is the sweetest cat I’d ever had, and friendly to pretty much any human. I’m going to miss my workout buddy, that’s for sure.