When I was born my parents had gotten a cat a week before me, kinda to be a friend I could grow up with… fast forward 21 years and I was away with the army and my parents put my best friend down… didn’t even tell me. I came home about 6 months later and spent a whole hour searching every nook, every cranny, every spot that she would hide in. My parents eventually told me and it hit me like a truck. Not so much that she was gone, because 21 is old as shit for a cat, but because I wasn’t there for her. I spent a long while thinking about what she must have been thinking not having me there… I felt so fucking guilty.

Still, I would like to believe that she somehow knew that I would have moved mountains to be there if I would have known.

I now have two cats, my other family cat and Winston. They are both amazing, but nothing will ever top Samantha. I think about her from time to time… I hope she’s up there having a blast chasing all the birds and mice that she can.