This week my husband and I had to make the awful, gut-wrenching decision to let go of our beautiful tuxedo cat, Willow, and let her travel over the Rainbow Bridge. She was fourteen years and eight months old and she was our baby. Saying she crossed the Rainbow Bridge is what pet parents, animal lovers, say when a family member pet has gone. It is so much kinder than saying the words died, passed away, passed on, euthanized, etc. The pain can be almost unbearable, so the idea that a beloved family member has crossed a bridge is somehow easier to hear and to acknowledge.
We’ve had to experience this heartbreak too many times over the years and as a pet loving friend of mine once said to me, over 20 years ago, “It doesn’t get any easier. Each time hurts just as much as the first.” Oh God, it does, it really does! So, as an author, I do what is second nature to me and I write about the pain of the loss of this beautiful baby.
Now there may be those of you who are reading this who scoff at the terms ‘pet parent’ and ‘member of the family.’ I am perplexed by that attitude. What does the word parent mean but someone who cares for, nourishes, loves, and protects a dependent creature? What is a family member but someone who lives with you? Having someone in your daily life for over 14 years? That’s a family member to me and to many people, and having them gone is heartbreaking.
I remember too clearly when one of my pets was horribly ill and I was talking about her treatment with some colleagues. A very thoughtless, cruel person present said to me, with an ugly smirk on his face, “What’s the big deal? It’s just an animal.” When I angrily told him he was way out of line with that comment, he said he thought that would make me feel better, that it wasn’t a person, just an animal who was dying.
But that pet wasn’t just “an animal” and neither are any of the family members who walk on four legs. Whether you’re a dog or cat person, we can all agree that as soon as these animals live under the family roof, they become a family member. Any creature you care for is a part of your family.
They give love, receive love, and somehow make your day brighter. Sometimes, they act more the way the human race should act; gentle, loving, accepting of faults, than we real humans do.
Anyone who can say that, ‘Good thing she’s just an animal. At least she’s not a person,’ has never experienced the unconditional love of one of these babies. That person has no right to judge what another person is going through, no right to dismiss another’s pain. Trust me, the loss of a family pet is just as significant and life-altering as any other death. I have experienced both kinds.
Willow was not just a cat. She was a warm, beautiful, loving member of our family. The cutting pain of losing her will, as it has with our other fur-babies, take time to scab over, but it will never really heal. Memories can be painful but one day I’ll look at pictures of her and smile.
I would never diminish anyone’s pain and sorrow. I respect what they are going through. As a pet parent, I ask for the same consideration. Life is beautiful and so are all God’s creatures.
©2017 copyright Kristen Houghton all rights reserved Kristen Houghton’s new novel, Unrepentant: Pray for Us Sinners, book 3 in her best-selling series, A Cate Harlow Private Investigation has been voted one of the top five novels by International Mystery Writers. Houghton is the author of nine novels, two non-fiction books, a collection of short stories appearing in anthologies, and a children’s novella. She is the author of the Horror Writers of America award-winning Welcome to Hell and is hard at work on a new series that features a paranormal investigator with distinct, untried powers of her own.