Snausages was one of the best friends I’ve ever had.

She had a fun name, which was given to her by a neighbor, before my time. She was from the wrong side of the tracks. When she moved in with me she rose to the occasion. I wouldn’t allow her to demand attention of me, then swat at me when I touched her anywhere below her head—water in a spray bottle works wonders with cats. She became one of the most loving animals I’ve ever known. She was adorable of course, and she tolerated my photographic experiments. She was a good subject.

About 18 months ago, she fell from the internal balcony of our townhouse condo, breaking her pelvis in two locations. She was up and ready to walk in 2 weeks. She later went through a number of intense health issues, only to bounce back into perfect friend mode. She was always around when I was sick, and she loved to sleep in my lap for hours on end, preferably in whatever position was most uncomfortable for me.

As many of those health issues slowly wore her down, in the last few weeks she had been on the decline. On Saturday, we had to let her go. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last, but that familiar vacuum is very present today. “The Longest Hour” is that last hour that we had with her before our vet appointment. It was absolutely terrible, but I’m happy for every second of it. She fell asleep on my chest for the last time.

You may wonder why I’m posting this here. Beyond sharing our grief in this now-familiar forum, she was one of the original reasons for my finally taking the plunge into woodworking. After her fall she had trouble getting into the bed with us, so I planned to make a bench that she could use to step up. I made a tiny table for food bowls after she suddenly went blind due to hypertension (a condition from which she recovered); I made a little ottoman/step for her favorite chair because she couldn’t handle the jump by herself; I made a ramp for her litter box as she began having trouble getting over the edge.

This is an example of the many things that affect our lives in unexpected ways—of how a pet can become an unforeseen source of inspiration, or necessity. As well, woodworking improved her life just as it has improved mine. I might go so far as to say that my “hobby” helped to keep her with us for just a little while longer.

So thank you, Snausages, for everything. We love you and we miss you terribly. I will think of you fondly when I am building things, and I can’t thank you enough for that.