BANG! The front door crashed against the wall when I threw it open, desperate for any news my mom might have gotten while I was at school. I tried calling her during my lunch period, but she was a stickler for the rules. She knew I wasn’t supposed to have my phone out, whether I was in class or not, and she refused to respond anytime I tried to contact her during a school day. Today wasn’t any different, unfortunately for me. 
    

“Mom! I’m home!” I called out. A few seconds later, I heard light footsteps coming from the kitchen. My mom poked her head around the corner, sending me a shaky smile. There were bags underneath her eyes, and her usual vibrant blonde hair now just hung limply around her face.
    

“Hey, sweetie. How was your day at school?” she questioned softly. It wasn’t until then that I noticed that one of her hands clutched her cell phone like it was it a lifeline.
    

“It was fine,” I answered dully. I sucked in a deep breath before asking the question I’d been dying to blurt out since this morning. “Have you heard anything from the vet?”
    

My mom’s shoulders immediately drooped and what little life she’d shown seemed to be sucked right out of her. “Why don’t we sit down for a minute, honey? I’ll tell you everything, I promise.”
    

Reluctantly, I carefully perched on the edge of the couch closest to me. She plopped down on the couch opposite of me, then picked at an invisible piece of lint on her black work jeans.

“Mom, quit stalling and tell me what the vet said. How’s Snowball doing?” I demanded desperately. She drew in a deep breath while she finally lifted her head back up to meet my eyes. A few moments passed and she still made no move to talk. Just as I prepared myself to plea one more time for the news of my beloved cat, I saw it. A tear silently made its way down my mom’s cheek. In that moment, it was like my world came crashing down.
    

The feeling of dread I’d been carrying with me all day solidified even more, making it difficult for me to swallow. All at once, the emotions I tried so hard to suppress since I found my cat on the floor, yowling in agony, came rushing to the surface.
    

Finally, my mom worked up the nerve to tell me what I already knew. “It doesn’t look good, sweetie. The vet said Snowball has another urinary tract infection and we didn’t catch it early enough this time. I’m sorry, baby, but there’s nothing they can do.” 
    

Loud, wrenching sobs filled the room. The walls started to shake as if an earthquake suddenly decided to hit at the moment I’d just been told the worse news of my life. How fitting. I didn’t realize until later when my older sister came home that the walls weren’t the ones shaking after all; it was me. My mom was gently rocking me back and forth as I wailed pitifully into the crook of her neck.

Later, once I had calmed down, my mom told me we were allowed to go pick Snowball up. The vet recommended that we keep him at home over the weekend so he could spend his last few days of life surrounded by people who loved him. I didn’t have one complaint, even though I knew what it meant. I was going to have to watch him die. My best friend, the one who listened to me when no one else did. The one who comforted me when I had a bad day. The one who stood guard over my bed after I watched a particularly scary movie. He was the perfect cat and I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him just yet.
    

When we actually arrived at the vet’s, I forced myself to calm down. Snowball didn’t need to see me break down in case it added to his already stressful state. Set in my resolve to be strong, I spaced out until I actually laid eyes on him. He was curled up in a ball, letting out the most horrendous noise I’ve ever heard in my life. It was a cross between a meow and a scream. My mom gingerly picked him up, careful not to add to his pain. She was about to put him into the cat carrier she brought, but one look at my face had her handing him over to my waiting arms. As soon as I touched him, I knew this was really happening. His normally silky white fur was now dirty and rough like sandpaper. His blue eyes stared up at me in recognition, then I felt a warm raspy tongue lick my cheek for a quick moment.
    

I half-chuckled, half-cried and petted his head. “Hello to you too, little man.” Logically, I knew he couldn’t hear me seeing as he was deaf.  Though, a part of me wanted to believe that he still understood. It made me feel better at the very least.

He weakly butted his head against my chin in an attempt to tell me he was okay, but we both knew he was lying. I let myself believe the lie just for the moment.

Snowball passed away the following Monday at around 10 o’clock in the morning. After we had picked him up at the vet’s on Friday evening, I went right into spoiling him. I gave him a little saucer of milk and instead of cat food, I prepared a plate full of tuna, turkey, and cat treats. All his favorites. Both dishes went untouched the whole weekend. The yowling sounds he had been making on Friday increased in frequency and volume. I woke up several times during the night to comfort him, petting and kissing his head until he calmed down. It worked for a while up until Monday.
    

I knew today was the day. I jumped out of the bed when I opened my eyes to see Snowball lying pathetically on the floor near my dresser. He picked his head up to look me straight in the eye, then literally crawled into my lap. My arms curled around him protectively, thinking he couldn’t leave me if he was safely tucked away in my arms. I was wrong. Minutes later, his breathing started to come later and later. Then, finally, he gave up the fight to live.
   

“Snowball? Snowball?! C’mon, answer me, baby! You can’t leave me yet! I’m not ready,” I yelled despairingly all the while shaking his limp body, trying to get some sort of response. There was none. His body would never move again.
    

My mom and I buried Snowball in the woods behind my house. Soon after we were done saying our piece to him for the last time, the first snow of the season started to fall. The color of the white flakes reminded me so much of his fur, it was uncanny.
    

“Please, please let him come back to me,” I prayed. When I received no answer, I trudged grudgingly back into the warm house.

God must have heard me because a year later on the anniversary of Snowball’s death, December 3rd, I walked home from school only to find a white bundle of fur waiting for me on my doorstep. On closer inspection, I realized while it was not Snowball, it was almost an exact replica of him. The only difference was in their eyes; Snowball had pale blue ones while the new arrival had shining green ones.
    

“Snowball?” I whispered, almost afraid of the answer. The cat in front of me titled its head in curiosity before rubbing against my leg.
    

“Kaitlin, is that you? What are you doing out in the cold?” my mom inquired. Then, she titled her head down to stare at the animal at my feet. We both exchanged a long look before she gave a quick nod. “Bring him in before you both catch your death out here.”

We didn’t end up keeping the Snowball lookalike, now deemed Blizzard. We gave him away to a family friend who also just went through a loss of a family pet. I believe that Snowball sent that little emaciated cat to my home to help me realize something. Even though Snowball himself was gone physically, he would never leave my side. Not ever.