Micah

Micah passed away last Thursday, April 2, 2026. I'm devastated. She was with me for a little over 12 years. The first half of that it was just me and her living together, and the last half with Alex too.

I've never had such a strong bond with another creature, she felt like a part of me.

She never bit or scratched me; she would raise a warning paw if she wanted to be left alone, but never claws out, and never hissed. I felt like she was protective of me.

She enjoyed meeting people, and being the center of attention.

We would spent ages just staring at each other, and she always slept with me. She would jump up on the bed, do some circles then drop herself heavily next to me, purring. I felt so at peace with her there.

She woke me up every morning between 4 and 6 am. I sometimes complained about this, but I loved it really.

She was a big fan of tummy rubs, and would lie belly up for as long as I would supply them. Often, if I stopped, she would miaow that I should please continue.

I let her do what she wanted, as I felt I had imposed myself on her life, and she seemed to accept those terms. She was never a fan of being picked up - nor am I - but she usually wanted to be close by.

Whenever I called her, she would come.

She was always very chatty, saying hello when I arrived home (or she woke up). I’ll never forget her voice, and I could listen to her purring forever.

Many years ago, we were watching Adam Curtis’ Bitter Lake together, and she got very excited by a scene where a soldier had a pigeon perched on his forearm. She went and batted at the screen, which didn’t work, so she had a look round the back of the TV to see if she could get it there.

During the afternoons, she would come to me at my desk and bring me back to the living room so I could play with her. A lot of her life seemed to be trying to get me to do what she wanted, and she was visibly very happy when she succeeded.

She first got sick last Spring, and on two occasions the vet said she was close to the end. But she pulled through, albeit with quite serious kidney disease.

This last year, therefore, felt like a gift. I knew her illness would only get worse, but I was overjoyed to have more time together. I treasured every moment.

When she deteriorated a few weeks ago, I was hopeful she would make it through again, but after her second stint in the hospital, I started to realise that wouldn’t happen. She was getting weaker and weaker, and eventually couldn’t eat any more. Despite that, she never stopped going to sit in the sun, and never stopped coming to curl up with me.

She brought me so much happiness and love and calm, I feel so lucky to have had her in my life.

I didn't know I could be this attached. Letting go is very hard. I don’t want to.