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July 24, 2013
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Everyone dies.

Even warriors die.

That doesn't make it any easier on us when it happens.

We grieve. We feel pain.

I grieve.

I mourn.

My poor little friend. I can't express the sadness I feel. Yesterday evening, when I found out the news, I wasn't able to think about it. I wasn't able to think about it last night either, not without tears.

I can't believe he's gone.

We've all loved him so. He was always there, ever since I started high school, which was five years ago and five years isn't much for a cat. He was there even before Arthur. I knew his mother. And that small, fluffly bunch of his brothers and sisters which all disappeared very quickly. Only he and his sister survived the first summer. That's why we named her, Lucky. And only he returned after it. I remember him as a little kitten. He was small and grey and he had a strange voice. He meowed like no cat did. He was always picking fights with other cats and always coming back. The true fighter. The true warrior.

My little warrior.

That's how I named him.

Warrior.

There wasn't a cat in the neighbourhood he hadn't eyed and scared off with his gaze, there wasn't a thing either, he wouldn't do for his mother. When she was to have kittens again next summer, he was the one bringing her food and he was the one making sure she ate first when we gave them meat.

He was so full of mischief and tricks. And he was so smart. He knew the chances of getting food by the balcony weren't always high as we rarely went to the balcony and so he would wait by the window of my room while his mother stayed there. The second either the balcony or the window opened, both of them were there, waiting. Sometimes he wouldn't be seen. And so he used a little trick. He climbed on a white van parked right under our window. Everyone knew him as the cat from the car. When the van was gone after the two summers, he climbed any car as long as it was close. And waited.

Arthur liked him. He was the only cat he didn't mind seeing around. Even as a kitten, with Warrior three years his senior, he always went to the window and looked out for him. We knew the second he spotted his friend, we'd know. It was the first time he had shown his caring nature for someone like him. Arthur was selfless. He had enough food in his bowl and he wanted others to be just as happy and their bellies just as full.

Warrior disappeared that summer.

We hadn't heard from him for three years. I thought him dead. I didn't think he could survive in the new environment which wasn't ''cat-friendly''. Stray dogs took over and cats disappeared, one by one. Whenever I see one, I am surprised. I know the bitter truth. She or he would be gone by the next day.

About two weeks ago he came back.

I wouldn't have recognised him was it not for his trick of climbing the car. He was so small, so shabby. It was then that I knew his time was close, but I still wanted to hope. I brought him food and called Arthur. When he spotted him, he didn't move from the window. He missed his friend.

I missed him too.

Then he was gone again. We hoped to see more of him. He didn't come.

He came one more time, about three days ago. I wanted to take photos of the clouds through my window and as I looked out, I spotted him.

Warrior.

My Warrior.

He was perched on the car and patiently waiting for someone to acknowledge it. When he spotted me, he jumped down and waited. I wanted to take a photo of him. For my album. But I was afraid of scaring him off. He was hungry. I knew it. But I didn't know how he'd react to a flash. And so I kept him company at the window while grandpa went down to give him food.

He had a feast that day.

True feast.

And once again, he was gone.


Mum came home last night crying. I didn't dare ask what was wrong. I didn't cry. I needed for her to find strength in me. We both loved him more than anyone else in the house did. And she saw him last night, laying by the road, abandoned.

Alone.

For such a strong male as he was to end to cruelly, so harshly, without anyone by him... my heart aches.

The authorities aren't allowing civilians to do anything. What will they do to him? Will they give him a proper burial? Find a place for him to rest? Or would they treat him cruelly? Will he see his brothers and sisters again?

I couldn't go out to see him. I couldn't face it. I couldn't. I want to remember him as he was. I want to remember him strong and willful, protective of his kin and trusting towards us, as someone who survived for seven long summers and who was the first cat I truly bonded with. I hope we had made his life beautiful. We cared for him. We loved him like our own.

Grandpa says it might not be him. I don't want to hope. I can't hope. But then again, it would mean another one died and no one cared. I wish for that cat to rest in peace, were it my little boy or some other stray.

Rest in peace, my little warrior, find your brothers and sisters and find Lucky. Heaven is for everyone who was loved and who loved. And they certainly belong there. Their souls were pure.

Rest in peace.
Some people find solace in painting. I find it in writing.

Rest in peace, Warrior.

I will always remember you.
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:iconcanudigit65:
First let me say sorry for your lost. I see in the writing you have done I see you and your cat Warrior has had fun times and I hope you will never forget them. I may not own a cat but I know how you feel about losing a dear pet that you love. The first step of losing a dear pet is to always thank of the good times you had with your cat. I see nothing wrong with the writing you have submitted. Keep up the awesome work with your writing. I thank you for asking me to critique this writing you have done.
What do you think?
The Artist thought this was FAIR
3 out of 3 deviants thought this was fair.

:iconmabusthedark:
The tears that fall bitter upon this page resonate your love and devotion to little Warrior. People who don't have pets don't understand that they are as much of family as one's own brothers and sisters, and losing a loved one at all heavily burdens the hearts of those left behind.

There is so much emotion and power in your words... it hardly seems fair that he was taken in such a cruel and heartless way. It tugs upon the heartstrings, and I send to you not only my deepest sympathies, but also my admiration, for having the courage to share something so personal and heart-breaking to you.

Warrior is now enjoying enjoying the tall grass and calm air of the beyond, and no doubt has found his brothers and sisters.
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:iconmabusthedark:
MabusTheDark Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
My heart aches for you... I lost a dear friend of mine when I was a child.
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:iconthewitchofgrich:
theWitchofGrich Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2013
I havenīt had strength to go through the story again...
Reply
:iconmabusthedark:
MabusTheDark Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
I don't blame you, it's really tough.  I understand completely.
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:iconthewitchofgrich:
theWitchofGrich Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2013
Still, losing a friend probably canīt compare to losing a pet :(
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:iconmabusthedark:
MabusTheDark Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
My friend was my pet. :(
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:iconthewitchofgrich:
theWitchofGrich Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2013
awww... :( :(
my Warrior was so young...
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:iconmabusthedark:
MabusTheDark Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
He sounded so wonderful.  He still lives on with you, in your heart.

Please remember him always.
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:iconthewitchofgrich:
theWitchofGrich Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2013
I will. He will always be my little boy.
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(1 Reply)
:iconziwu5:
ZiWu5 Featured By Owner Sep 17, 2013
Sad, but nicely evocative of both the good times as well so that we readers could share a sense of the loss. 

Unfortunate inspiration behind it, but a nice and well-crafted piece.
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:iconthewitchofgrich:
theWitchofGrich Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2013
Thaqnk you :( I miss him so much. I donīt dare read the story again.
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