Three years ago my wife and I got three pet rats. A little over a year later, we added two more, and for a brief moment had a lovely little mischief of five happy boys.
Then we lost one of the new babies in a freak accident after he got injured during a scrap, then, a few months after that, the first of the original trio left us, and so on, and so on, until today, when the last of the new babies, who was now just over two, passed away.
And as much as I try to focus on the happy times, watching them boing about on the sofa, or stealing snacks from us, or just snuggling inside the hood of my jumper and falling asleep, it’s really hard to reconcile that with their short little lives.
We recently adopted a pair of 6yo cats, and while they could feasibly spend the next 10/15 years with us, there’s always that nagging doubt that they’ll suddenly develop an incurable illness, and we’ll lose them too soon.
But that’s all kinda worth it when they’re asleep on your lap, purring away. Or in the case of the ratties, boggling and bruxing.
Sorry if this is a bit maudlin; I’ve just buried Wilbur in the garden, and I miss my little toast-stealing friend.
I grew up with animals on a farm and was pretty callous (not because of the farm, just immature lack of empathy). I caved in and let the family get a rescue pup several years ago. She wasn’t “mine,” really, but it still hit me incredibly hard when she passed. I went to get a cotton cloth to bury her in the day before before she was put down (uncorrectable, painful colitis) and the cashier asked me what I was making. I said it was for my dog, then got into my truck and ugly cried. It’s the second pet I’ve lost as an adult and it will be my last. I can’t deal with the pain. Good for you for adopting the cats; I hope they bring you solace for the time being and many enjoyable years.
Mind if I joined you down here? I lost my cat to old age. I still remember how I felt when I walked into that really nice room at the vets office. I remember to let me hold him for like another hour, I really shouldn’t have, he was in a lot of pain but he was pretty sedated too. I remember kicking and screaming when they told me it was time for him to go.
I can’t do it again. And that guilt will follow me forever. I can never give my love to anything else like that. Doesn’t that feel so hollow?
I tear up just thinking about it. In a way it was worse because she was having a (then rare) “good day” and I think we were all sort of second guessing whether she needed to go. OTOH, she went as easily as possible, with all of us there, and in our house. I found a vet who would make house calls and would come to us. They are family, but they are more. We are their guardian and their provider as well as their companion. I think it’s natural, no - I think to some extent it’s healthy, or at least right - to feel the way we do. But it’s also healthy, for us, to know our limits and be mindful of our own mental health. hugs