Warning: the following entry contains emotional discussions of pet death. Please use discretion if you are sensitive to that.
It has been a while since I, Lady Hollyclaw III, have been called upon to give a statement to the denizens of my kingdom. My reign over the domain of the humans has been long, my power indisputable, and my ferocity undeniable–– silence, scribe! I am ferocious, not just adorable. No, don’t write that! Well anyway, it is my duty as lady of the house to inform the public of the state of my affairs. I jest, but you who writes these words for me shall, in fact, be my successor.
The moment I first saw you, I thought to myself, “That lap looks comfy.” I hopped on, took it for a spin and decided right then that it was where I wanted to stay for the rest of my life. I knew early on that I would require a human aide, due to my lack of hands, and what can I say? It just seemed right.
I was a kitten, then, and you were a child. But I knew you’d be the perfect servant to my every catly whim. I was right, and you quickly took to my training and pampered me like the princess I am. Wait just a moment… I am being informed that my royal metaphors are all over the place and inconsistent. Your note is… noted. Moving on.
When I was a kitten, my name was Hollykit, as those who grew up reading the Warriors series would understand. At 6 moons old, I became an apprentice, and took the name Hollypaw. Finally, when I reached adulthood, I was bestowed my true name: Hollyclaw. Through all of it, and to everyone, I was simply Holly. Through all the years, I never forgot my training, and what it really means to be a warrior cat. Okay, maybe I never really did any fighting. Sure, I just said above that I was pampered… but I contain multitudes, okay? I’ve left my fair share of scars. There’s a reason why I earned the name Hollyclaw, and am known by many a human as the dreaded “murder ball.”
My dear sister, Emberheart, has been gone for five years now. Her own entry, written during a bout of serious illness, is one I remember fondly. Although she would manage to get through it and live another three years, it was the only message she needed to convey her love for her people. She was somewhat dense, but with a heart of gold, and she was often more clever than she led you to believe. Though we shared the same birthright, she was humble, and above all valued the happiness of those around her. Noble, indeed. Not that I would know–– hey, wasn’t this supposed to be about me?
Suffice it to say, I am starting to understand now how she felt, back then: it sucks to get old. According to feline calculations, I am eighty-eight years old, but can’t we just say I’m eighteen? I think that sounds nicer, after all, even if everyone knows the human system of time is completely irrational. In the province of Québec, where I currently reside, I am old enough to consume human alcohol. I have no interest in doing such a thing, but it does seem to put my… elevated maturity status into perspective to simple-minded humans like yourself.
You know I mean no harm when I say such things, as I know you mean no harm when you say the same. To put it kindly, we’ve always had different… perspectives on intelligence. But we have always had a way of communicating with each other. Your pets were as comforting to me as my purrs were to you. My favorite place in the world remains by your side. And I am deeply happy to be there with you now, as I approach the end of my days.
It’s been no secret between us that I’m getting old. It’s unfair indeed that you should outlive me so, but that is the way of things, is it not? We both knew this. Still, as old age began to take its toll and illness settled into my aching bones, we didn’t want to think about it.
I’ve been hurting, lately. We both know it. It is my culture as a cat to hide when I am in pain, but you are no fool. I understand that you know pain well, as I have been there for you through your struggles with chronic illness. But I love you, so deeply, and I wasn’t ready to leave you. I’m still not ready, to be honest, but my body is. I told you this, and you finally cried for me. You cried for me, but I knew you understood: it was time.
I know it breaks your heart to see me like this. It breaks my heart to see you sad. But we’ve had eighteen lovely years together, haven’t we? I said I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life, but that was a lie. I wanted to be with you forever. But unfortunately, you incompetent humans haven’t managed to figure out immortality yet with those hands of yours, so a lifetime is all we get.
Together with you, I have had an amazing one. I grew up alongside you, and by the time I was fully mature, you were still growing. I watched you struggle through pubescence and adolescence. I watched you fall in love for the first time. I watched your heart break. I watched you make decisions, good and bad, and I was there when you reaped what you had sown. I was there for you when no one else could be, just keeping an eye on you. Making sure you never forgot what mattered most: me, of course.
I wish I could be as brave in the face of death as my sister was. But my love, I am terrified. I know you are too. When Ember left this world, it was me who was able to comfort you. Who else will you have now, if I’m not there to curl up beside you and purr as we fall asleep? Well, I suppose humans can be good for this purpose too, even if they lack the ability to purr. After all, you’ve been the best companion I ever could have asked for.
Going into the future without me, taking my kingdom into your own hands, will be a challenge. Everything will be different. But I trust you, my knight, to carry on my legacy and do what I always did best: be cute, be curious, and be a little bit crazy too. After all, that’s what Ember and I have always wanted.
Sincerely and Farewell,
Lady Hollyclaw III of Villeray, Montréal
Minister of Aesthetics and Pulchritude
