Two years ago this month, on her 14th birthday, my cat Persephone Aphrodite died.

It happened quickly. She got sick, and a week later she was gone. I grieved, of course I grieved. It was like losing a child. I don’t have children, see, and I never will, so giving in to that trope of the crazy cat lady, my cats are my kids. And Persephone was my second eldest.

I got Persephone the year I went back to Uni. I had decided to get a second cat because I read somewhere that cats thrive with company. Well, Sappho was pissed, but more about that later.

Persephone was a tiny ball of squeaking fluff. When I first met her before deciding to take her home, I thought her name was going to be Aphrodite. The day I picked her up, though, was the day I realised she was not the Goddess of Love and definitely the Queen of the Underworld, so Persephone she became. She hated being picked up. Hated it. She’d do that thing where they stick all four legs out like some demented fainting goat, but she loved to sit on me – when she chose to, of course.

When she was 7 months old, she came into heat. It took me by surprise because she was so young, and I was in the middle of a show at Uni so was distracted. I remember coming downstairs one morning to find her up on the kitchen window sill, yowling like a banshee, her butt pressed up against the fly screen and about five tom cats sitting outside in a semi circle just staring up at her. Needless to say, she got out by accident one night and came home knocked up.

65 days later, she disappeared.

Now, as I mentioned earlier, Sappho – my eldest – was not happy about the arrival of the Queen of the Underworld into her nice little domestic scene that featured just her and me. It took only a month before Sappho softened somewhat and began to tolerate the fluffy interloper. They even snuggled on my bed occasionally. But all that changed when Persephone fell pregnant. I can only guess to the hierarchy of female cats together, but I can surmise that mumma cats are probably automatically the alpha cat. This confused Sappho, as she was clearly the alpha cat in our house. She was older, she had spunk, she was the neighbourhood stand-over cat, and when Persephone first arrived in our house, she deferred to her older sister. But now, there were pregnant pheromones flowing through the house, and Sapph was decidedly NOT happy.

But the day Persephone disappeared inside the house, it was Sappho who led me to where she was. I say led with purpose. I asked Sapph where her sister was so she led me upstairs into my Dad’s room and stood next to his chest of drawers and hissed. I was confused, but Sappho insisted, growling some more before running away, so I pulled out the bottom drawer and lo and behold, there was Persephone under the bottom drawer with three kittens, mewling away. I had prepared her a kittening box downstairs, but no, it wasn’t safe enough for her. (I have to say that the term “kittening” sounds ominous to me. “Beware the kittening!”)

Anyway, Persephone turned out to be an excellent mother. She showed her babies – all boys – how to clean themselves and use the litter tray and did all the things mumma cats are supposed to do. She wasn’t a helicopter mum though, she let the kittens discover things for themselves. And this is when I learned that she trusted me implicitly. I was allowed to handle her kittens from day two. I remember one day when one of the kittens was on my lap and got his claw stuck in my jumper. He mewed loudly and Persephone came running into the room, concerned. As soon as she saw her baby was with me, she relaxed and miaowed at me. Then she cleaned her paw.

Persephone was the type of cat that had to choose you. If she sat on you, licked your hand, bbrrrpped at you or showed you her butt, she approved of you. She liked boys particularly, but it took her a long time to warm up to people. She had her favourites over the years, but there were really only two people besides me that she completely adored. My brother Hiran and my housemate Sara.

I remember when Sara moved in, they thought that Persephone didn’t like them. I kept reassuring them that she was taking her time, scoping Sara out, much like she did with my brother when they first met. And again, like with my brother, within the week Persephone was sleeping on Sara. She had chosen her human.

But she was a mummy’s girl at heart. All my cats are. Mum is the one they come to when shit gets real. And my cats are the ones I rely on when my shit gets too real.

A few weeks before she died, Persephone slept in my arms for a whole night. She hadn’t done that since she was a kitten. Sappho was always the one in my arms, and Persephone slept on my butt, or tucked in by my knees, or curled up next to my tummy. This night, she ensconced herself next to my heart, purred loudly and stayed there all night. It was as if she knew.

See, Persephone’s middle name is Aphrodite because her love was subtle. She was choosy with whom she shared her affections, but once she had decided that you were worthy, she stuck with you. I’d tell her I loved her and she would tell me with little sandpapery kisses on my hand that she chose me. I miss her so much.

I didn’t write about her death at the time because it was too much. I’d had her for 14 years. She was rarely sick, she only disappeared from the house once (she was found two long and awful days later, skinny and dirty, but happy to be found). I had never expected her to go first out of my two girls, but she did.

Sappho, my darling black and white beauty, was devastated at her loss. Now, don’t get me wrong, Sappho barely abided by Persephone. However, when I was married, I got a third cat – Orpheus, a derpy ginger boy who I should’ve taken with me when I left – and Sappho and Persephone became allies against this invader. Once it was just the two of them again, mind you, it was back to the hissing and the growling because Sapph wanted to be the only one getting my affection.

There were moments, I must say, when I caught them playing. There was one time when they were outside my floor to ceiling windows together, happily playing with each other. I laughed out loud at their antics and Sappho heard me. As soon as she saw that I could see them, she hissed at Persephone and flailed a paw at her before stalking away.

Just before Persephone died, I was feeding them both one night. As they were waiting for their food, making those adorable chirrups that cats make when they’re being cute, Persephone started grooming Sappho, and not only did Sapph let her, she closed her eyes for a moment and enjoyed it.

Again, it was like they knew.

When Persephone crossed to the Summerlands, Sappho became dangerously depressed. She went searching for her sister, sitting in all the spots in the garden where Persephone liked to sit, meowing for her. When she couldn’t find Persephone, she’d lie down wherever she was and not move for hours. She wasn’t sleeping. She’d just lie there. For all her complaining, she missed her sister and it broke my heart. I got her a brother, Larichus Hades. She hated him, but she wasn’t depressed anymore. I guess I gave her something to hiss at.

Two years later, and I find myself lying down and not moving for hours for the same reason. Just last night, very suddenly, Sappho got sick. She had kidney disease, diagnosed last year, but was doing well. She’d had her treatment and was on her diet and despite a close call last December, she seemed to be making leaps and bounds. She’d always been a tough girl. Always been a fighter. But last night she had what I can only describe as being akin to a stroke. She had seizures and was yowling like I’ve never heard her before, and then she got worse and we had to go to the vet.

I knew this day was coming. I had prepared myself for it. But I thought we’d been given a reprieve because her kidneys seemed to be stable. I didn’t know her heart and her brain were not.

Sappho Mishka came to me in 2005. The night I picked her up I had to then go to work, so I took her with me to the brothel. She was supposed to stay out the back, but she kept hollering for me, so I set her up on my desk in the box I brought her in. She started chewing on this box, which gave me her name (it’s a gay joke, look it up). From that night, she became my staunchest ally, my best friend, and my saviour all in one.

I have so many stories of Sappho and her adventures. How she lost half her tail; how she’d puff up that stumpy tail to signify her moods; the different kinds of meows she had for different scenarios; the fact that she’d dribble when you scratched her cheek in that one spot; how she loved cheese and vegemite toast; how every time I cried she meow at me and purr; how every time I hurt myself – whether deliberately or accidentally – she’d lie on the sore bit and purr; how she’d go through stages of sleeping in my arms every night to sleeping on the couch when she needed alone time; how she loved my ex wife but as soon as we split, she hated that bitch and bit her to prove the point; how she saved my life numerous times by curling up in my lap as I contemplated leaving this earth.

My God, my heart hurts as I write this. It’s like there’s a weight attached to it, dragging it down into my stomach. My little girl is gone. Both my girls are gone. My constants for a total of 17 years are now away from me forever. They’re around, of course they are, but I can’t hold them. I can’t put my ear to their bellies and listen to them purr. I can’t look into their eyes and see my love reflected there.

I have two boys now. Larichus, my black panther, and Raef, my fluffy ginger kitten – a cross between Orpheus and Persephone. I adore them. They’re coping well with this loss. Larichus especially has stepped up as the oldest of my children now. I watched him search for her today, much like how she searched for Persephone.

But there will always be a hole in my life that can only ever be filled by my girls. I take comfort that they’re together again; Sappho no doubt hissing at Persephone while all Sephie wants to do is love her sister. I hope they know how much I loved them; how much they were my everything.

Rest in peace, my babies. I’ll see you soon.