We just lost one of our cats. She was adorable, the youngest of our four, with her own sassy personality, but a heart bigger than some people I know. She loved to snuggle, came when she was called, and slept in exceptionally strange positions. She was a light in our lives, one that was extinguished much too soon.
There are those people out there that do not understand the impact the loss of a pet has on someone. I have been overwhelmed by the outpouring of love from family and friends compassionate about our heartrendingly sad situation. I fear the moment someone with the compassion of a 20-year old re-gifted fruitcake will condescending tell me (and others going through similar things regarding our beloved pets) to simply “get over it.” Afterall, it is “just” a cat. No, it was a member of our family. Period.
Pets are our family. They provide love and comfort. Some provide security and services to us. Some simply look at us with adoring eyes and when those eyes are no longer looking at you from the rug in the bathroom, top for the cat tree, or curled up the kitchen sink where they are probably not supposed to be. But that is enough. That is how they enrich our lives. They are there through think and thin, on the worst of days and the best of days. A constant flow of love.
To those, like me, who are grieving and who, like me, will take quite some time to get over, I am joyful for the time I had with my baby girl, for all the love and comfort she has given me. I know that she is at the Rainbow Bridge with the other special cats and dogs and frogs, bird, fishes, ferrets, any animal for which someone cared and loved. It doesn’t make this process any easier, but it does serve to remind me of the unconditional gift for which have been so fortunate to receive.
Be safe, little girl. We shall cuddle again. And remember you are so loved.
