My cat was not just a “pet”.
Over a week ago I received the utterly devastating news that my beloved cat Lucky was run over and died instantly. Lucky’s death was the third worst day in my whole entire life next to my dad’s death and my mum’s cancer diagnosis. Lucky was my everything. He was my baby; my child. He brought so much joy and happiness into my life. I could never have imagined how much he would change my life. Now that he’s gone, I feel so empty inside; as though something has also died inside of me.
There are two types of people. Those who understand the grief when you lose a pet and those who don’t. Not even all pet owners understand. For some, a pet is not a family member but a nuisance, an accessory or serves a purpose such as for protection or status. It makes me sad and angry to see how some people treat their pets and see them as inferior.
All of the cats that my family and I have owned have been fully fledged members of the family. That’s why their death is so painful and devastating and no different to losing a person.
Even grief for a human can be more complicated than the death of an animal. Human beings are complicated. Animals are not. Unless you were extremely devoted and close to a human loved one, like I was to my father, human grief comes with complicated emotions. For example the death of both of my grandmothers didn’t devastate me like Lucky’s death as my relationship with my grandmothers was complex.
Both of my grandmothers were difficult, overbearing and controlling characters. I know that they loved me but the way in which they expressed love wasn’t necessarily healthy or one that respected boundaries. Their life traumas and upbringing obviously shaped their characters and view of the world. My maternal grandmother treated my mother cruelly and harshly. Although she didn’t treat me the same way, her lack of respect and cruelty towards my mother made me resentful.
My paternal grandmother was bitter and angry about life. My father was her favourite and beloved son and the only thing she felt was precious in her life. She hated sharing him with anybody else and despised my mother for taking her favourite son. She was a negative person to be around and only interested in her own woes and imagined illnesses.
Although I was sad when my grandmothers died, their deaths didn’t touch me in the way that Lucky’s death did. Lucky’s love was so pure and uncomplicated. He was completely loyal and devoted to me unlike many human beings in my life. Whether I was sad, happy or unwell, he was there for me.
Our bond went beyond words. Words are not necessarily to form a bond or express love. How many times have human beings said things they don’t mean. It could be a so-called friend telling you that they’re “there for you”, but in reality when you seek their comfort, they’re unavailable. Words are meaningless.
Many people love their pets so much because they don’t tell us superfluous and insincere phrases they think we want to hear and are socially acceptable, or make promises that they can’t keep. Animals don’t hurt us with cruel words or shun us when we seek comfort. They remain firmly glued to our side.
They don’t care what we look like or remind us of our flaws and failures. For them we are just an entity of love, warmth and kindness. All they want from us is love. Many people argue that animals just want food, but food is key to survival. Animals don’t place emotional demands on people nor do they demand money or expensive things. Animals remind us that material things don’t make you happy.
Lucky was the happiest cat I’ve ever known. The simple things in life made him happy. It was enough to be around his favourite humans and his brother. He was obsessed with his simple toy springs and he loved rolling around outside on the patio and getting belly rubs. The little comfort I have in this horrible situation is that Lucky didn’t suffer (apparently his death was so quick he wouldn’t have felt anything) and that his short three years were filled with such joy and happiness.
Lucky’s joy for life and love for me touched me. Those three years with Lucky were some of the happiest of my life. I felt so much love and warmth. Lucky was a ray of sunshine. His curious, cheery and extroverted personality lifted my spirits. He made me both cross but amused by his naughty antics. He loved to get my attention from jumping on my lap and demanding attention during my online Zoom lessons to finding and playing with something random he found in my room. He loved to try whatever food I was eating and went crazy over popcorn. Most of all Lucky just wanted to be involved in whatever I was doing because he wanted to be close to me. He was always by my side. I felt completed accepted and loved. Lucky brought out my best side- the side of me that is loving, caring and optimistic.
I feel so empty without my best friend. Nothing feels the same without him. Although I’m learning to live without his physical presence, I will always feel that part of me is missing. I will forever mourn my darling boy. All I can do is cherish his beautiful memory and gentle and kind soul. Very few human beings have shown me so much love and devotion, nor have they filled my life with so much joy and brightness.
Animals are truly special. They’re simple creatures but they exhibit far more love, devotion, loyalty and empathy than most humans. Humans are supposed to be far more evolved than animals. There’s a lot we can learn from animals.
I will forever miss Lucky, but I’m grateful and honoured to have had him even if my time with him was so short. I will always find joy in those precious memories of Lucky and feel enriched by the mark he left on my heart. Nor will I forget the lessons that he taught me. Although Lucky is not here physically, I believe that his spirit is still with me. After all according to the words of William Penn, “they that love beyond the world cannot be separated by it. Death cannot kill what never dies.”
RIP Lucky (3rd April 2021- 10th August 2024).
