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It was a cold Monday. I walked into my classroom and saw my friend Sylvia sobbing at her desk. I curiously asked immediately: “what’s going on?”

“Cutie died last night” she said. Cutie was her blind cat. I responded with an eye roll and a sigh: “oh please, It’s just a cat!”

And just like that, I walked away leaving my friend alone in tears.

I grew up hearing that cats carry deadly infections, so I avoided them. Always. At all costs.

Then on a sunny morning in my backyard, I heard a timid meow and felt the furry touch of a gray little cat curling up on my feet.

I am not going to lie; I had my reservations, but I could not resist touching her… and that’s all it took. I loved her from that moment.

We shared 8 years of hugs, scratches, love, purrs, laughs, fleas and yes, we had our fair share of tough moments but those were the least, really.

One day I noticed something odd, she could hardly breathe. We rushed to the hospital and she was diagnosed with Chylothorax.

I was devastated. The Vet’s words were: “if you love her as much as she loves you, be kind and let her go. She doesn’t deserve this pain.”

I cried all day. Went for a second opinion and received the same diagnosis. There was no cure, so I had to make the difficult decision and the next day, she was euthanized.

Amid my tears and despair, I thought of Cutie, my friend’s blind kitty and understood her pain. He was not “just a cat”. He was a part of her life, just like my adored cat was a part of mine.

I recognized my mistake and asked her for forgiveness… 25 years later.

Mourning my pet is one of the most painful processes I have experienced. I not only lost my pet, but I also lost my companion, my friend, the one that made me feel loved no matter what.

She was the quiet witness of my busy days, the one who came to bless my life when I needed her most. Rest in peace my little princess. You will be forever missed.


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