12/14/2025
I do too!!
I Miss My Furry Angel This Christmas
The house feels different this year. The lights are just as bright, the same carols play, and the smell of baking fills the kitchen. Everything is technically perfect. And yet, the heart of it all feels quiet.
Because you’re not here.
I find myself doing all our old routines, half expecting you to come padding around the corner. There’s an echo where your presence used to be—a warm, breathing, soft-furred echo that turned this house into a home, especially at Christmas.
I miss my co-pilot. My furry, four-legged holiday director.
Do you remember our traditions? They were ours alone. The way you’d “help” me with the decorations, your nose investigating every box, your tail wagging dangerously close to the carefully placed ornaments on the lower branches. I’d always leave one unbreakable one just for you to nudge with your head, your official seal of approval. The tree wasn’t truly up until you’d given it a sniff.
Then came the wrapping. You were never interested in the presents themselves, only in the ceremony. You’d lie right in the middle of the paper sea, a patient, fluffy paperweight. I’d have to wrap around you, your gentle sighs and watchful eyes making the tedious task feel like a shared mission. I always ended up making a little extra noise with the paper just to see your ears perk up.
Christmas morning was your masterpiece. You could feel the joy in the air, the crackle of excitement. You’d move through the room like a gentle, loving supervisor, offering a head for scratching, leaning against a leg, absorbing the laughter and the rustling paper. You were the quiet center of the storm, the living embodiment of the day’s warmth.
But my favorite was always after. When everyone left, and the house settled into a contented tiredness. I’d sink onto the floor, and you’d curl into me, a heavy, warm weight of pure comfort. We’d just sit in the glow of the tree lights, in a silence that wasn’t empty at all. It was full. Full of a love that asked for nothing and gave everything. That was my Christmas miracle, year after year.
So tonight, the peace feels a little too peaceful. The calm feels a little too calm. I hung your favorite stocking anyway. I might even put a treat in it, just for old times’ sake.
Because I realized something, sitting here in the quiet. You didn’t just share Christmas with me. You taught me what it was all about. It wasn’t in the gifts or the feast, but in the shared, quiet moments. In the simple, profound comfort of being together. You taught me about presence—your unwavering, furry, magnificent presence—which was the greatest gift I’ve ever known.
I miss you, my angel. More than these twinkling lights can say. But the love we built, that soft, strong bond that filled every corner of this season… that didn’t leave. It’s right here, wrapped around my heart, as real and enduring as any memory.
Thank you for every silent night, every gentle nudge, every bit of magic you brought. You are, and always will be, my Christmas.
Rest easy, my friend. I’ll be listening for the jingle of your bell in the stillness.
