It's been exactly a week since I'd been depraved of the presence of my favourite furry-footed friend, and I have to say, it's been difficult. I've had him since I was 14 years old, and it's incredibly hard losing one of the only things that stayed with you; literally through thick and thin, just so suddenly. It feels like losing a piece of home, or a connection to your childhood.
Though they say he's in a better place now, and that I'm lucky to have had that many years with him, it still pains me to think about him. Every time there's a noise in the kitchen, or under the table, I'd always instinctively bend down to pet him, until realization hits me that he won't be there.
I don't wish to linger too much, as words could never, ever articulate the ardent fondness that I'd had for Fluffy. On the 9th of September, 2015, he was lost to us, but never forgotten.
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