This is a picture of Husdon when he was still a baby. It's harder to take his picture when he's grown up because he was always eager to catch and playfully bite everyone's hands. 


He was born handicapped. His front legs were bent to the wrong direction so that he couldn't walk normally. But handsome Hudson was not a sad cat. He was always as cheerful as can be, running around the room, playing with anything. His transcendence was that he could, like the other cats couldn't ever do, stand with his back legs for a long time.

Just now, Hudson died.


And I'm not okay right now.


I cried. And still crying at the moment I'm writing this. 


Hudson was not just a cat. He was my bestfriend. I love him. He wasn't just a pet. He was born a cat and turned into something I really love. He was a friend in shape of a cat.


Maybe he couldn't share his cigarette with me. Maybe he knew nothing about the world. And maybe we spoke different languages. But he still consoled me in his own way. He wooed me. Made me laugh. He spared his time for me and was always happy to see me.


What's not perfect about the friend in him?


I don't mind him peeing my bed. I don't mind him biting my fingers too hard sometimes. I don't mind anything in him because I love, love, love him. 


I cried alone because Mom and Brother are not home yet. And I'm not interested in sharing this with any of my human friends because they wouldn't understand. They would only say silly things;


Oh, come on. It's just a cat. Yeah, a cat that takes more room in my heart than you do, a cat that was always genuine and true and kind, you heartless fucker.


You still have, like, 30 other pet cats. Why crying? Well imagine your bestfriend died and somebody say to you you still have other friends, so it's unnecessary to cry over him. I'll cut my hands if you don't smack that person.


Whatever, dramaqueen. This is ridiculous. If you love cats so much why don't you marry a cat instead?  If only God allows me to, I'd be happily choosing a cat instead of some bastard guys. 


My point is, I never ask anyone to understand. So if you think it's unnecessary to console me, just say proper things. If it's still too much to ask, just stay away and say nothing. Let me just weep on my own. I know this is something too insignificant for most people, but this matters much to me. Just like the rubber pacifier you carry around when you were a baby, and cried over when your Mom took from you. 


I already miss Hudson.


Today I lost a handsome, passionate, extraordinary cat.
Today I lost a part of my everyday.


I love you, Hudson, and will always do.