I didn’t have cats until I was an adult, I have my beloved Bogey’s who 19 1/2 and very thin now.

In my early teens I had hamsters, the first two had babies (the male + female were in separate cages, but my brother let them out of their cages to play at the same time and nature took its course). The mother ate most of them. Tried to feed and save the last 2 with an eye dropper of milk but couldn’t.

And I remember coming home one day from jr. high school to find that my guinea pig, Pepper was gone. My mother had the Animal Rescue League pick him up while I was at school without telling me. He’d gotten big and was really too big for his cage, but I didn’t understand why we couldn’t just get a bigger cage. He was also quite smart – he squealed every time anyone went near the fridge – he knew his treats of lettuce, carrots and cucumbers came from there. I’ve always wondered what happened to him.

Inky and Biko both sound like two very special souls. I agree that loss is always devastating, but despite the pain, I think most people still wouldn’t trade having had the love of these wonderful animals in their lives.

After maybe six months, as I walked home from school one day, the word got to me from the first house on the block as I descended the street to where our house was. “Inky died.” I didn’t believe it.

Bless her heart, my mom was the one who had to tell me. Inky had run out into the street (just like her daddy) and a mail truck had run over her. We had a burial with full honors in the back yard and I was inconsolable.

Maybe a year later, my dad bought me a new Schwinn bike and we were assembling it in the front yard. A mail truck drove into our driveway with a package my mom received. I glared at the driver, muttering to my dad that this must be the same man who killed my Inky. It probably was, and my dad kept his hands on me so I wouldn’t run, screaming like a banshee, to attack the murderer.

I’ve never forgotten that little puppy, symbol of so much I loved and lost. But then, much later in life, fate sent me a black Lab/probably Flat-Coat Retriever cross, named Biko. He also was black with white on his chest. He was already 18 months old and he became my alter-ego for the marvelous six years we had him before he succumbed to cancer. He was so wonderful and completed the life cycle, as far as I was concerned. Life is about loving and quite often about loss, and just because one has endured the latter doesn’t make it any easier when it happens.

I so enjoyed your blog, Ingrid, and look forward to reading more throughout your website. Laura sent me the link, thank goodness!

I agree, it’s important to be honest with children when it comes to pet loss. I’m not a parent, but I can only imagine how difficult it must be to have to watch a child go through this kind of an experience. Hopefully, talking about Holly and the good memories of the times she shared with your daughter will help.

Your thoughts on your parents’ explanations of Muffin’s disappearance made me think. It’s so hard on children to lose a pet, but honesty really is the best policy. We had to put our 16 year old cat down a year ago and our daughter (then 6) was absolutely devastated. The poor cat was having such a hard time, but we made the mistake of taking the cat to the vet when our daughter was at school. She was completely distraught…had planned on having her picture made with Holly. If I’d only known!

Elizabeth
Mystery Writing is Murder

Animals have played an important role both personally, and now professionally too! I would not have guessed I would work in “animal-related” fields, but I love it! Our cats (while in the “dog-house” today for keeping us up last night) mean a lot to us.

And I”m so glad that Mr. Boober is having mostly good days. Cherishing every moment is really all any of us can do, and our cats are such wonderful reminders of that each and every day.

Fast fwd 20 years, and my husband and I are owned by three cats: Lulu, Matisse, and Aliza. Matisse (or Mr. Boober as his nickname has replaced his original name!) has been battling feline lymphoma since since his June 2008 diagnosis. The doctors thought he had a few months at the most. He’s still here. And he wants to be here. It is as if Mr. Boober is giving me the time to say goodbye that I never had with Sinead. It has been a special time, whether he has good days or bad days, or his horrible days which happen a lot more frequently now.

We don’t know how much time we have left with Mr. Boober, which is not any different than how much time any of us have with our pets. But we definitely cherish every moment.

Thanks for another great post on your blog, Ingrid!