Today has been rough.  Yesterday was worse.  Our big black cat, Ash, died suddenly.  He had not been sick, and we don’t really know what happened.  Jeff thinks he had a heart attack.  One minute he was here and the next minute he was gone.  I wonder if his sister, Smokey, feels as lost and confused as the rest of us.  I thought I had cried all my tears yesterday, but I lost it again today when Smokey jumped up next to me on the couch like Ash used to do.  I closed my eyes as I petted her and pretended just for a moment it was him.  Then I started to sob…

Anyone who has lost a beloved pet knows how we feel today.  The house is too quiet.  Ash was the loudmouth. He would holler if his dish was missing a few bites of food or if the water dish wasn’t completely full.  And he was demanding.  He seemed to be the first one awake in the morning, and he would walk on you to get you awake.  If that didn’t work, he’d sit in the hallway and meow loudly until you got up just so he wouldn’t wake the whole household.  He would also bang his head into you if he wanted your attention and you weren’t quick enough to pet him.  And he wouldn’t take no for an answer!

Did I mention that I didn’t want any more cats?  Jeff and I had cats when we were first married and when they were gone, I vowed never again.  We’ve always had dogs, too, so I did not miss scooping litter boxes or cleaning up cat barf.  But kittens are adorable, and my boys found a brother and sister at the pet store near our home.  Begging ensued: “We’ll take care of them — you won’t have to do anything!”  For a while I held my ground, repeatedly saying “No more cats!”  Eventually, I somehow made a bargain trading good grades for kittens.  I lost.  (Or won, depending on how you look at it.)  “Dobie” and “Zelda” were 2 1/2 months old when we brought them home.  We quickly changed their names to Ash (the black male) and Smokey (the grey female), although we thought about calling them “Run” and “Hide.”  They were very skittish at first, a trait that Ash never outgrew.  He would hide under the bed when we had visitors, only slinking carefully out when he was certain the coast was clear.  My mom was sure we only had one cat.

Fast forward twelve years.  Jason is married and has his own kittens.  Josh is 21 and eager to be out on his own.  As my nest is emptying, my furry children are even more dear.  I’m thankful for my Facebook friends — they have been so sweet.  I’ve had dozens of kind comments regarding Ash’s passing and it means so much to know that others understand.  Some of us just believe a house is not a home without a pet.  But beyond that, losing a pet is a life lesson.  It reminds us that time moves swiftly and that the things we take for granted can suddenly be gone.  Pets teach us about unconditional love.  They greet us when we come home and when we wake up.  They depend on us to take care of their needs.  God gave mankind dominion over the animals of the earth, and put them in our care.  In return, they give us affection and companionship.

As Josh reminded us yesterday:  “‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”  Ash is gone, but his memory lives on…in the black hair that has so firmly embedded itself in the cat perch, and in our hearts where he will live forever.