Those who've never had a pet may never comprehend the special bond that exists between an animal and its human. They may never understand that the pet is more than just an animal; that the pet is family, and is loved and cherished like a child.
Today I lost a child.
Kinder (pronounced like the first part of kindergarten) entered my life on September 27, 1997. A young stray cat, she followed me back to my apartment from the parking lot late that night. She looked emaciated and gladly lapped up the milk I set down for her. Intelligent cat that she was, she quickly realized that this had the potential to be a much cushier life than out on the street. She declined to leave despite an open door, and I welcomed her to a permanent spot in my home, and in my family.
She's lived with me in 6 different places in these 8 years or so, providing constant companionship and sometime entertainment. She even caught a mouse that went on to live with us for 3 years (I have a soft spot for strays).
Today started like any other day. Nothing out of the ordinary as we got ready for work. Fed the dog, cats acting normal, off to work. Then I got a frantic call from my wife at 6pm: Kinder wasn't moving. She lay still on the floor with no signs of breathing. I raced home and confirmed: no signs of life. She'd probably been there for a few hours. Oh, god. Oh God.
It really hit me as I wrapped her up to take her to the vet for cremation. I didn't want to cover her, as I knew that would be the last time I would see her. My child is gone. How did this happen? She wasn't old, just middle aged. Maybe 9 or 10. She'd slowed down a step the last couple of years, but nothing like an elderly cat. No unusual symptoms. We were expecting another good 7 or 8 years with this cat, then out of the blue, gone. What happened?
We'll never know for sure. Maybe it was sudden heart failure, which can occur with no prior warning. Who knows. Sometimes life, and death as a part of it, just isn't fair. A pet owner always knows that this day will come; maybe sooner, maybe later. It's part of owning a pet that won't live as long as you do. But that doesn't make it any easier.
It's been a rough night. I don't think Jasmine and Bruno understand what happened, but they could tell something was wrong. Jasmine is curled up on my lap as I write this, giving me comfort. I'm just thankful we still have them. And I'm glad we could provide Kinder with a good life for those years we shared together.
I just hope Kinder's in a better place now, whether that means an afterlife or simply being at ease in those final moments. We will miss her dearly, may she rest in peace.
