For Harry

And What A Family We Were

Jul 06, 2026

Yesterday we let Harry go.

Four months after Toto, we had to say goodbye to his brother, too. The loss of Toto was still deep in us, so when we found out a few weeks ago that Harry was fighting tumors, it hit hard.

But the weeks he still gave us were beautiful.

It could have been the extra attention he got after Toto was gone. It could have been the fifteen different luxury food options we served him every day. Or maybe the fancy dental treatment he still received from us. Whatever it was, Harry, who had always been more of a private guy, suddenly became a social cat.

Whenever we had guests, we told him they were all there to celebrate his birthday. He seemed to like that. He greeted everyone and slept under the dinner table, as if he had finally accepted that people could be useful for more than opening cans.

Harry had always been a very unhurried cat. Slightly grumpy, but completely at home in himself. He was the voice of reason in this family, the one who seemed to roll his eyes whenever Toto, Lisa or I had once again decided to do something unnecessarily stupid (in his eyes). Just like in any good family. And yes, that is what we were. A family.

The last few weeks with Harry felt like a gift. We cuddled a lot, carried him on our shoulders through the apartment, and spent long hours on the balcony in the summer sun. Life became very small around him, but somehow enough.

Then there was less of Harry.

He ate less and lost all the weight that had always been part of his Harry-ness. He moved less. He scratched less at the scratching post. He purred less. He paid less attention to what was going on around him.

Then less became almost nothing. And yesterday it was time to let him go.

After Toto died, Lisa said that part of him lived on in Harry. That is exactly how it felt. And now it is so still here. So still.

Your litter box is still there. Your favorite spot is still ready. Your scratching post is still standing. Your favorite fur brush is still here. The cupboard is still full of food. And your piece of string is still on the floor, the one you kept attacking until almost the very end, with the full seriousness of a life and death battle.

Those two little troublemakers leave behind a huge emptiness and, at the same time, the fullest and most beautiful sixteen years of my life.

Harry, now you can cuddle with Toto again and steal his food like old times.

Mach’s gut, Knuffi.