When my cat was put to sleep, I wasn’t there. I was on the other side of the globe because of unforeseen life circumstances. When the text message came in, I immediately burst into tears, overwhelmed by pain and guilt. Not being able to stay with him during his last moments had been my biggest fear when I handed his carrier over to my friend and boarded the plane. And that biggest fear came true.

Miaomiao was diagnosed with Polycystic Kidney Disease when he was three. I can still relive vividly the evening when I had to take him to the vet for one of his appointments but I couldn’t get up because I felt like I was frozen, paralyzed. I eventually stopped crying and made it to the appointment, eyes swollen. I had a hard time communicating with the vet because words somehow got stuck in my throat, and tears came out instead. For pet parents who are going through appointments and diagnoses, I just want to acknowledge that the process is tough, and you are not alone.

Before getting his diagnosis, Miaomiao started to urinate in places he wasn’t supposed to. Since I was ignorant, I assumed he was throwing tantrums since I was away from home a lot. And until today, I still have difficulty forgiving myself for blaming him and yelling at him. The way I reacted must have caused a lot of confusion and stress on him. I didn’t get a chance to apologize and make up with him, and I never will. My heart sinks to the bottom of the ocean every time I think of it. I usually try to distract myself when that thought comes up. But on the other hand, I know my cat probably didn’t think the same way. I don’t think he would hold on to grudges as we human beings do. He probably would not think of me as a terrible person. Only I did, and sometimes still do.

When Miaomiao crossed the rainbow bridge, I had had little experience with death in my personal life. I had volunteered as a hospice volunteer and knew that I was supposed to grieve my loss, but I didn’t know how to do so. For a month or two I just felt numb, until I received from my partner Shin a little drawing of Miaomiao sitting on the moon and holding a star-shaped lantern. The face of the moon resembled my face, as if I was holding him and looking at him lovingly while he was enjoying his time in heaven. I immediately burst into tears and kept crying for…I don’t remember how long. I really hoped he would be as happy and peaceful when he arrived on the other side of the rainbow bridge. This thought brought me comfort and I started to wonder what the other side of the rainbow bridge would look like. I remember my hospice volunteer brochure said that our loved ones were “gone…from our sight”. So maybe Miaomiao went into a parallel universe, a pet heaven. This small drawing has helped me grieve and started my healing journey.

I set up a memorial with this drawing, a framed picture of Miaomiao, a small plant, a tealight candle in its holder. Whenever I felt the unbearable pain of this loss, I would light up a candle, talk to his picture, and weep while the candle was still burning. I would tell myself that when the tealight candle finished burning, I would regain my strength to function in my daily life. This practice has worked quite well for me. I started from multiple candles per night, to one candle per day, to one candle per week, and so on. Today I still water the plant, maintain the memorial regularly, and occasionally light up that tealight candle.

For anyone who’s suffering from the loss of your furry friends, the journey is tough, but you are not alone, and healing is always possible.

Love,

Phoebe