Sherbert (R.I.P)
We’d only had him a few short weeks, but it felt like he’d always been a part of our home. My mother found Sherbert at the Family Dollar, the tiniest kitten you’d ever seen. She quickly noticed why he might’ve been abandoned—a wound near his eye that housed a botfly larva.
She brought him home, and we began to care for him immediately. I fell head over heels in love. Our neighbor’s daughter, who’s studying to be a vet tech, took him to her vet to have the larva removed safely.
After we got him, we kept him inside to prevent any chance of reinfection while he recovered. He’d spend his time cuddling with me, my mom, and my aunt, and we just loved on him endlessly. Last night, he was fine when we put him to bed. He cried a little, as usual, then curled up and went to sleep.
This morning, my husband went to check his food, water, and bedding, and then he just froze, staring at me. I knew instantly what had happened. Sherbert was gone. The very thing I’d feared since we got him had come true. I broke down. My husband handed me his little bed with Sherbert on it, and I cried—ugly cried. I stroked his soft fur, praying for anything other than the reality in front of me, hoping with every touch that he’d somehow wake up and everything would be alright.
It’s amazing how much you can fall in love with a little soul that’s only been with you a few days. Yet here I was, mourning this loss as deeply as when my grandmother, whom I adored, passed away.
I pray that whoever abandoned Sherbert is feeling a sense of sadness today without knowing why. I think it’s unimaginably cruel that his life was so short, but I hope he felt loved and that his time with us brought him comfort. I can’t understand how anyone could have thrown him out into the world without a care.
I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more for you, Sherbert. I truly am.