I still remember the first time I met you. I knew immediately that I’d take you home with me. Your clown face always brought a smile to mine. Your chilled-out attitude and naivety made you easy to love. The way you waddled your fat bottom and swayed your hips made everyone laugh. You were the cutest creature I’d ever known. Your clinginess made me feel needed, and your heavy steps brought life to the house.
I’ll never forget how you cheered me up through break ups and our cosy naps together; you were the warmest and most cuddly teddy bear I’ve ever had. You were one of the brightest sparks in my life. I regret not being there to see you take your last breath, to hold you in my arms, and to look into your eyes before you closed them forever. I regret being selfish and not prioritising your safety and comfort over my busy social life. I regret neglecting you when you needed me most and feeling you were an inconvenience when you wanted my attention. I regret not letting you on my bed yesterday morning when you stood by the edge, and I rolled over to avoid you. I regret not giving you the love and care you deserved. I regret not checking to see if you were okay or kissing you goodbye this morning when I left the house, like I usually do.
I am so sorry, Sox. I hope you died painlessly, that you were just dizzy and wanted to rest, and then you fell into a deep sleep. I know how much you loved sleeping, so I hope you’re happy where you are now. It breaks my heart to know that I’ll never see your happy face again.
May you rest in peace, my baby boy.