This was our cat Nabi (나비 in korean, which means “butterfly”). She was me and my wife’s six year old angel for the past four years. Always friendly around others, always asked for pets from strangers, always wanted to sit on somebody’s lap. The friendliest and sweetest cat you could ever ask for.

She was found by my wife at a cat cafe. She was always shy of other cats because she got picked on due to her size (5 lbs), and because of that the cafe said she’d be a good foster candidate. They bonded instantly and my wife fostered her for a few months. Despite my initial protests due to my allergies, I met her a few months later, I saw how much joy and love Nabi could show. We officially adopted her after that.

She sneaked out of our home Tuesday night when I got back from the gym, I think I left the door open for a second too long. She was found dead on the side of the road the next morning. I’ve been crying non-stop for the past two days, thinking of what her daily routine would be if she was still here. She was only six and I thought we were going to have more time together. She had so much move love to give. Everybody keeps telling me it’s not my fault and to not blame myself, but I can’t help but think if I had entered through our back door that has a closed area, or if I had closed the door sooner, she would still be here with us. I figured I’d have to say goodbye at some point, I just didn’t think it would be so soon…

I want to think that we gave her the best four years she could ask for. She taught me a new form of love, the unconditional love for a pet. I’ll miss her cuddles early in the morning, or when she’d sit on my lap while watching anime and YouTube. I’ll miss the times she’d meow at me before going to bed so we can play together. I’ll miss the times I would see her sleeping next to my wife after her long shifts at the hospital. I’ll never forget the love we gave her, and the love she gave back to us. I know she’ll be waiting for us on the other side of the rainbow bridge.

Thank you for everything Nabi. We’ll remember you for the rest of our lives