There's a lot of sadness in our house as of late. It isn't because we're angry with each other, but because we recently lost a part of the family. I don't care how it sounds or how it seems, the truth is Candy was every much as part of our family as any one of us is. It didn't matter that she couldn't speak words - she still spoke to us. She was always waiting for whoever was coming through the door to say hello. Candy chose us, back in 1994 after some pretty serious floods came around our area. The family that had her prior to us had moved away and abandoned her - something that's terrible, but in a way ended up to be a blessing. Because if those people hadn't left her behind, she never would have found us - and given us over sixteen years of joy.

Candy had more personality than I'd ever seen in a cat. She knew what she wanted, who she was, and where she wanted to be. And she definitely wanted to be with us. From the very beginning, she and my father had some kind of special bond. She favored him, always following him around the house and meowing for his attention, which he would more than give to her. They were constant companions for the many years she was in the house, from reading the paper together on Sunday mornings (my father reading while Candy burrowed under the pages he wasn't using), exercising (my father doing his exercises while Candy observed nearby) and more than a fair share of naps (which they both took part in). Growing up, my father never had a pet and now this was the first time he'd had an animal who really took to him. We've never scrimped on opening our home and our hearts to animals - and cats - but Candy was my father's special companion. She was fond of my mother, too, but there wasn't much question that Candy was my father's cat.

There are so many good memories that I never want to forget.

But on Friday, January 21st, we had to say goodbye to our precious Candy. For a time we'd been noticing her age catching up with her, and on Friday morning she was no longer able to use her back legs. It was one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever seen, because I knew what it meant for her. We'd been holding on as long as we could to her (she wasn't in pain, and that was why), not ready to say goodbye. But on Friday, we knew it was time. I went with my mother because I knew she needed someone with her, and I knew just as well that my father wouldn't be able to withstand it.

It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. And I won't write about the details here because I doubt I'll ever forget them, and that isn't what I want to remember about Candy. I will say that she cuddled up close to me while I held her and I knew she was saying goodbye. I just knew.

I'm tearing up right now just thinking about it.

But we had to say goodbye because it was the most merciful choice for her. Even though I know that, it hurts so much still. We don't ever want to lose someone or something we love, least of all someone that dear to our hearts.

I know Candy will always be with us, the same way that we will always miss her.