Last night my childhood cat passed away. She’s been with us for 14 years and it was my dad that found her. As my mum was telling me what happened between sobs, I tried to push back the tears and be the strong one because I knew I was really lucky not being there or being the one that found her.
“We also have to put this into account,”she said between sobs, “That there will come a day when they will be gone.” I looked at Cleo, my cat, sleeping next to me on the sofa and thought, “Not a chance.” I don’t want to be there when she dies. I don’t want to see it and I don’t want to experience it.
Then I realised how incredibly selfish I was. Pets- animals- are there for us. Always. They depend on us for food and water. They make us laugh and bring joy and the least we can do is treat them well and be there for them until the last moment and not abandon them when they need it the most. Their love is unconditional and they get attached to someone in a way human rarely do or often forget.
I know a piece of me will die when Cleo will be gone, like it did last night.
So even then they won’t be alone.