The first cat I ever had was when I was given a kitten in the mid-1980’s. I was living in Connecticut in the woods. I called him Rocky. He didn’t like to be picked up but loved being petted. When he was a year old, he was run over. A neighbor found Rocky and buried him for me. I was devastated. I had no idea I would be so upset, so sad and grieving. Never having had pets growing up, I thought that saying, “I can’t see you now, my cat just died” was overstating the situation. I was so totally wrong. I was heartbroken. Losing a cat – or dog – is losing a family member. Grieving an animal is the same as grieving a person. It’s a heart connection, and it takes time to get over the change and the sadness.
I buried our cat, Thunder, just five months after we buried Clare. He was fifteen years old. The house was so quiet with him gone. Every day when I would come home, I would instinctively look for him and then remember that he was no longer here. He was such a sweet guy and had been my buddy following me around, keeping me company while I worked in the office or in the garden.
I made an altar for Thunder in the front hall so I could have a focus for remembering and mourning him. It was also to honor him for being part of our family and included pictures, his collar and a cat sculpture I purchased to eventually put on his grave.
My daughter was ten when she picked him out from three kittens neighbors left behind when they moved in the summer. We had an opening for a cat as our male cat, Hugger, was gone. She really wanted a black cat and there he was with big gold eyes. He got the cute kitten award at the vet when we took him in to get checked out. She named him Thunder. When the first rainstorm arrived late in the fall, he was out all night. He loved being in the rain. We knew he was not an ordinary cat. As he got older, we discovered he had what they call smoke fur – he looked like a black cat but with white on the inside half his fur.
It’s funny that a critter that doesn’t talk much would take up such a large space in my home and heart. I’ve found this with all my cats. I was surprised originally that cats were such wonderful company. After thirty-five years of cats, I decided to take a break to explore freedom without anyone at home I needed to take care of. It doesn’t mean that I’m not sad that Thunder is gone. It is an ending and a beginning.