I got him when I was four, almost five years old. ~Everything was so different then. My world revolved around that orange kitten from the moment I saw him. He was adorable. My dad got him at the pet store for me and had him in his office waiting for me to get home. He was so precious and tiny.

All I ever wanted to do was hold him, but he didn’t always want to be held. He always was an adventurous kitty. He could never stay stuck in one place for long and that included the death grip of my arms. But he was patient. He never scratched or bit me. He used his unique little voice to let us know that he was displeased. He was a perfect and patient kitty.

His name was Tigger, then it was Tiger, then Rusty, then Tigger again, then Tiger, then back to Tigger. One day, I was holding him against his will and proudly proclaimed, “Tigger, you’re my little buddy.” Then Buddy stuck. Maybe because it fit him and I didn’t feel the need to change it, or maybe because his vet needed a forever name. And that’s what he was, my little Buddy for 16 more years.

Last week, I had to make one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make. I held him as he went to heaven after a hard battle with kidney failure. I knew in my heart that it was the best decision, but it was so incredibly hard. I loved him so much and I miss his meow and his begging for water out of the garden hose. I regretted it, but I knew he was in pain and that it was his time.

I know this is quite a bit different from my normal work and a bit of a downer, but it has been weighing heavily on my mind. I wanted to write as comfort for those who may have lost a beloved pet as well, or even as a “what to expect guide.” If one of those could even exist.

Perhaps, this is even a way for me to heal, as I pour a difficult time into my writing. There is something so therapeutic in this art. So here is my experience with grieving a pet. An important note I will give is that this is mostly going to apply to euthanizing them, I have never lost a pet tragically or suddenly, so I know nothing of that.

It will be the hardest decision you ever have to make. When I had to make the choice for my Buddy, all I wanted was for him to tell me what it was that he wanted. If he wanted to live and fight to get better, then I wouldn’t have made the choice. I just wished he could tell me that he was ready. I wished I could have heard his choice.

The problem is, they can’t tell you. You need to be able to read their signals that they are suffering and need to go. You need to assess the quality of life they will have if you make this choice, that should be the determining factor. I knew my Buddy wouldn’t be able to play outside anymore and he would have to be trapped inside, which he would have hated. He would have been so unhappy.

That was a key factor. I couldn’t keep him alive just to have him be sad. Nevertheless, I wanted my cat to stay with me, but I had to make a selfless choice that was going to be the best for him. Just understand, that it does not hurt them. They go through a series of anesthetic before the final shot is administered.

They do not feel it. It is peaceful.

If you have other pets, you are going to have a whole range of emotions towards them. I have two other cats: my mom’s cat, Daisy, and my other cat, Ari. I am so thankful to still have them, but losing Buddy has made me so protective over them. I am anxious and constantly worried that I am going to lose them too. I have probably been a bit too clingy in trying to cherish and protect the time I have with them.

I also feel very sorry for them. Especially Daisy, as she lost her best friend. She is so lonely know because she does not get along with Ari. It is painful to know that they are hurting too. Then at the same time, I feel slightly resentful. I do not want either of them touching anything that was his, or even remotely replacing him. I even buried him with his bed because I couldn’t stand the thought of any other cat sleeping in it or throwing it away.

You may find a strength you never knew you had. I always said that I could never be there or witness my animals death. I would say that it would have been far too hard to watch, but I couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving this world without me there. After all the times I forced him into hugs, and held him down to watch all of Oliver and Company with me multiple times, I couldn’t bear the thought of him going without someone holding him and telling him that it would be okay. I ended up holding him the whole time, even the ride back home.

I was heartbroken and it was some of the most intense pain I ever felt when they gave him the shot, but there wasn’t anyone I would rather be holding onto for comfort, than him. Because he had been such a huge part of my life for as long as I could remember, it was hard to imagine life without him there. But I am doing fine now. This is going to bring out strengths you never knew before, because you have to be strong for your baby.

Just trust yourself and know that you made the best decision. It’s going to get better and easier. You never forget them and the pain eventually becomes easier to bear. It’s still raw and most likely always will be. I only lived four years without my Buddy, and only remember parts of those years.

He left a giant hole in my heart. I find myself conflicted, because part of me wants another kitty, but the other parts knows that a new cat could never replace him.

I asked my mother why we get animals if it is this painful at the end. She told me that, “the pain of not having one eventually becomes stronger than the pain of losing them.” I wholeheartedly believe that. I am just thankful for the 16 years of memories and love that I had with my sweet Buddy and I know that one day I will hold him again, but until then, I only hope that he rests easy.