A friend of mine had to have his cat put to sleep tonight. This was the last of a feline family that he’s had for . . . I don’t know how long, close to twenty years, I’d guess. It’s very sad. I’ve been there, and I know how difficult it is to make a decision that is best for your furbaby but oh, so hard on you. People try to say the right things, like “she’s no longer suffering” and variations thereof, but there really aren’t any words that make it better. I said them, too, even though I know they don’t really help. I think we say them more for ourselves than anything.
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Of course, it’s not exactly like losing a person; I think we can all make that distinction, even those of us who cherish our pets. But person or not, they do become family, and for my friend, that cat was his only close-by family, as he lives states apart from his siblings. And though he certainly has friends—good friends—where he is, he is also separated from those of us who have known him the longest. I worry that this is the sort of thing that’s difficult to handle alone, worry that he will withdraw into himself for at least a while, and won’t let anyone help him. That’s sad, too, knowing that my friend will have a hole in his life that he’ll try to fill all on his own. No one should have to do that.
I hope he can feel my love and thoughts wafting his way. And I hope his healing begins soon.