On the Loss of a Beloved Pet

The night before I wrote this, one of our two cats just keeled over and died. No prolonged illness, no evidence of injury, he evidently had a heart attack or something similar and he died. One minute he was friendly and was purring, and a few minutes later he was gone. Whiskas was a rescue cat, one of two my wife and I brought over from the UK when we moved back here three years ago. (He got his name because he looked just like the cat in the picture on the box of cat food of the same name.) We don't know exactly when he was born (my wife got him as a kitten before I knew her) but he was approximately 9 years old, not very old as cats go. When I got up this morning, our other cat, Diamond, is still sitting on the chair she was sitting on when Whiskas passed on.

I know, some people may say "it was just a cat," especially when you hear about children being murdered by some nut job with a gun and an axe to grind. But he was more than "just a cat" to our family. Anyone who has lost a beloved pet knows what I'm feeling and what my family is feeling. Animals give what most humans do not: unconditional love. Every day, he would come into my study while I was writing or reading something or other on my computer and start to meow softly until I said "OK" and reached down to pet him. He would actually stand up on his hind legs like a meerkat and let me scratch his head. He will do that no longer. I miss him terribly.

R.I.P. Whiskas, c.2003-2012

We got a kitten - "Pinto" - he's following right in Whiskas' footsteps driving our other cat crazy! Time will tell . . .

One year ago today we lost Whiskas and I and the family still miss him. In the meantime, Pinto, the new kitten, is filling his shoes (paws?) admirably. What a little terror!