(Megan Bianco)
For the first quarter of my life, I never really considered myself a big pet person. Of course, I grew up with a dog and a couple of cats, like most suburban families. There was even a token goldfish who impressively lasted four years despite little me unintentionally underfeeding him. The two cats, Basil and Gadget, were named after Disney characters [the former of The Great Mouse Detective (1986) and the latter from “Rescue Rangers” (1989-1990)]. Yes, there was some irony in me naming the family cats after animated mice. Basil was a rather aggressive male cat who had a habit of scratching us and liking our neighbors more. Unfortunately for Basil, the first neighborhood we lived in was also known for coyotes roaming the region occasionally. Gadget was less violent and lasted a lot longer with us since we decided to have her be an indoor-only cat. Gadget’s only vice was that she had trust issues from experiencing a botched neutering as a kitten, so she wasn’t the cuddliest pet. Because neither of my family cats were friendly, I didn’t obsess over them like most pet owners and can only remember holding Gadget a handful of times. It wasn’t until our one and only dog, Blacky, came into our lives when I was in middle school that I suddenly saw the appeal of living with animals.
Blacky was the perfect dog. She lived to love us and we loved her. My life for five years included routines like me, my mom and the dog walking ‘to and fro’ the house and my school bus stop, and my family visiting the beach with the canine. I secretly considered myself Blacky’s favorite human since she generally chose to sleep on my bed more than anyone else’s. Naturally, Blacky and Gadget didn’t see eye-to-eye upon meeting, but eventually they learned to live with each other. For the first time, I started wondering if maybe I was a dog person more than a cat person after all. Sadly, Blacky wasn’t a part of our lives as long as we were hoping because we have a feeling a couple years were shaved off her given age when we were adopting her. Her death was during my junior year of high school, so for my whole college education away from home and for roughly four years after graduating, I was completely without animals and fine with that. Blacky was already irreplaceable and I was over cats….Or so I thought…
(Megan Bianco)
When I moved into my first apartment at 25, my roommate had a cat. A fluffy grey+white creature named Grace. We kept our distance initially. Cats are naturally wary of strangers and newcomers. But soon enough, we were sitting next to each other on the couch and she would lounge across from me at the table I worked at. Eventually we made it to snuggling, petting and selfies. All of a sudden, I’m one of those people sharing cat pics in group texts and posting said pics on my social media. Turns out, some cats actually aren’t that bad. Some even do want to be held! But as things are with life sometimes, I had to move after only three years and parted ways with Grace. Yet as luck would have it, my next place included a roommate with yet another cat. This time a soft, dark tabby named Lambo. My first male cat since Basil, and the complete opposite in composure. Like Grace, Lambo was cautious of me at first, but once realized I was harmless and here to stay, he warmed up to me in no time. Dare I say, he was even cuddlier and more loveable than Grace. No hyperbole, Lambo might be the best pet experience I’ve had to date. No bites, no scratches, no hissing. Just a kitty behind my head or next to me or on my legs while I’m lounging on the couch. The purrs, the kisses. Perfection.
Since neither of these cats were my own, even though I enjoyed living with them, I made my bedroom off limits to curb the possibility of the felines preferring me over their legitimate owner [plus who wants to deal with cat hair on their bed?]. Something I didn’t realize until recently was how lucky I’ve been to not witness any of my pets during their last moments when I was younger. Basil disappeared in the middle of the night, I was away at college when Gadget passed, and my family opted to not be in the room with the vet when Blacky left this world. Like with all four other pets, there is a limited time frame with Lambo as well. The first couple of years were lovely, but then the feline man of the house developed a thyroid issue that slowly worsened over time and required medication every day. After four years of taking special care of the kitty, he also parted from us just last week. This time, I was home and my last moment with 18-year-old Lambo was when he was unresponsive while sleeping.
This might be the hardest I’ve ever taken losing a pet. Of course I was sad when the others died, especially Blacky. But it’s a distinct image to see your beloved animal companion deceased right before your eyes. A reminder of how important and impactful all creatures on earth are. Whether cat, dog, fish or horse. Let’s appreciate and take full advantage of their brief time in this world with us.
I’m so sorry, Megan. ❤️
God rest his kitty soul. Losing a pet is rough.