King Arthur came into our lives a year after one of our other cats had been put to eternal rest. The day we received him, my dad and I drove over 5 hours to Seattle, WA to get him. He cost $50. On our way back home we found that he was not yet declawed nor was he neutered and he had worms, thus we knew that we would have to fix that for him when we got home. That was the beginning of how King Arthur would come to enter our lives and bring us unimaginable joy. Named after the legendary figure, we would call King Arthur and Arthur for short. The title “King” was indeed suitable for him as he sure acted like one, acting like he owned the house. Arthur was also quite the troublemaker during his first year, from knocking over and breaking mom’s favorite wine glasses to chewing up almost all the phone chargers in the house. However, he was the best companion for our family. He warmed up to me and my dad immediately, later on my sibling. Mom… not so much, though when all three of us were gone, Arthur would snuggle up to mom until one of us three came home. Throughout the time he spent with our family he would come to experience many firsts. From his first snow to becoming a “big brother” to one of the newest additions to our family, Eerie, whom we got in his second year with us. He would also let our dog know that not all cats are mean. Arthur was playful, loved snuggling in between our legs under the covers of the blankets, and could sometimes be a little bit of a bully— though not that bad of one.

This year would be our fourth year with him, just a few months shy from being our fifth year with him. What happened next would bring shock and grief to the entire family. We didn’t know what was happening to him as he hadn’t much of an appetite lately and was experiencing diarrhea, so we took him to the vet. He was diagnosed with the stomach flu and we were sent home with some medicine just for that. Around a week passes and he’s not getting better, to the point where he can barely move because he was in so much pain and could not muster the strength to eat— not even the treats he loved so much. That night on March 14th I told my dad that something more was going on, something much worse than just the stomach flu. My dad then took him to the vet that very night and came back to say they gave him a shot for the pain and to bring him back tomorrow morning for further testing. The morning of March 15th was a normal day for me, getting ready for my classes for that day— except for the fact that my dad took Arthur to the vet. For the entire rest of the day, I go about my day, waiting, waiting for some sort of news. It wasn’t until around 4:00 PM I heard some news through the mouth of my sibling, that we were to head to the vet after my last class of the day— which happened to be at 4:00 PM. Deep down there was the feeling of dread, because I just knew what that meant. However, I held onto a shred of hope that what I was feeling was just that— a feeling. We drove to the vet immediately and I’m out of the car first to find my mom parked just a few cars away. The shred of hope I had grew dimmer. I find myself going to the entrance of the vet and find my dad walking out with tears streaming down his face and apologizing that was out of his control— out of anyone’s control. They had discovered a blockage in his intestinal tract and had gone into him to get it, however found that it was a cancerous tumor that had ruptured and spread throughout his system. There was nothing more they could do, and with deep sorrow, we said our last goodbyes.

Now without him in my life, in my family’s life, I wake up expecting him to be there snuggling up to me like always— only to find he is not there. I’ve experienced sadness, anger, and loneliness since then. Sadness in his passing, anger because he was snatched away from my family and I so soon, and lonely in the sense that the circle that occupied my soul now has a gaping piece taken out of it and can’t be filled with just words. He was more than a pet. He was and will always be family.