By Christine Perry
I lost my magnificent, Harley Kenneth, 3 years ago this Saturday. He was with me for 17 years – through so many changes, adventures, heartaches, and triumphs. He was always ready to snuggle but he’d hiss at his sister Lilli and sometimes even attempt to beat humans to death with his tail if they got too close to me.
As the anniversary of his death approaches, I am amazed at how much I still miss him, but with only rare appearances of the gut-wrenching pain I once felt. Often I have joyful flashbacks of all of the things I miss about him. I miss watching him wiggle his backside when he was stalking his sister or a toy. I miss making him dance with me while he quietly went to his mental “happy place”. He loved music and sunshine, so the song seemed fitting. I miss how social and funny he was when I’d have company over. I miss watching him walk with such swagger; it always made me laugh. I miss that sweet face looking up at me when he’d lie in my lap after a long day. I miss everything about him.
He was quite a character. He is infamous to my family and friends who will randomly tell a Harley Story every now and then. He certainly left his mark in more ways than one – he actually bit quite a few of my loved ones during his younger years and they wear the scars proudly.
Harley’s life began as a tiny kitten abandoned in a ditch, but ended as a treasure valuable beyond words. I am so grateful that his suffering was short and that his life was full. He’s missed every single day.