To let everyone know

Loki died this weekend.
And it feels like shit.
It's so incredibly stupid.

Saturday two weeks ago he again developed the ear infection he had in fall last year. I went immediately to a vet because last time it was pretty close. However this new vet was not at all gloomy and prescribed the same antibiotics as last time. She said that if it got under control he would be with me for at least a couple of more years.

And the antibiotics worked. He got better, ate again and complained and complained and complained... he wanted to get out. Which I refused for two weeks.

Last thursday I had taken the afternoon off to go with Mark to the Megadeth concert in Paradiso. As I was bound to fly to Milan on fridaymorning I cleaned the house and went into the garden to take out the garbage. Loki, seeing his opportunity ran after me. I disposed the garbage and after 15 minutes or so called him and he came back, being all happy in the february chill.

I then made the mistake of thinking he was back to normal.
He wasn't. Maybe I should have known that. I don't know.

I was more or less aware that whenever he shook his head he fell over. The balance organ was still not 100%. But at the same time, he ran straight, climbed, jumped and did everything a cat likes to do. Loki in particular. He even went back to hunting the short time he was out.

So an hour or so before leaving to Amsterdam he sat miserably in front of the kitchen door complaining again. I made the mistake of letting him out again.

And he never returned.

Not after I got back from Megadeth.
Not the six or seven times I woke up during the night to check on him.
Not the morning before flying to Milan.

So I called Thijs. Asking to take care of him and letting him in *if* he appeared.
Friday afternoon I called him from Italy. Loki was still not back.

I was worried shit.

Then I called a friend who works as a volunteer for the animal rescue service. She told me what I had feared. There was a big red cat found floating in water two blocks away. They could not reach him but when she understood that it was likely my cat, she pulled some favours and send a team back to get him. Thijs went with them and could identify Loki.

What likely happened is that my grumpy old cat went to the back of the garden. There is a small canal. He must have climbed over the fence and over onto the very small railing of my neighbours. He likely shook his head and fell.

I fucking miss him a lot.
That's an understatement.

This cat has been with me through a lot. There were times he annoyed the crap out of me, he scratched my arms on more then one occasion, bit me (esp. when feeding his pills)... but you know: this was my cat. The one that curled up and lay on my leggs or back when I was alone.

And I have been alone (but not lonely) frequently these last couple of years.

And now he is gone.

And did I mention already I miss him like hell?
I do.

...Fuck.

I want my cat back.