When you welcome an animal into your home, they don’t just become your pet. They become your family.
You create such a remarkable bond with these creatures, each of whom have their own distinctive personalities. Some are skiddish, and some are fiesty. Like with the loss of a family member, the loss of a pet hurts us to our core. The news of their passing sends an immediate pang in our stomachs and a lump in our throats. We can no longer breathe properly without absolute focus. The tears flow for what seem like an eternity. It’s a pain that we knew would be coming. Pets are ticking time bombs. Most live between 15-20 years, but you never know how much time you’ll be granted to spend with your beloved fluff ball.
We were granted two years with our Stella.
If you knew me at all, you’d know that I was head over heels in love with my precious Siamese kitty. She was born in our home, and I knew right from the start that she would be my baby.
Stella was my saving grace. She entered my life at the beginning of my trying to conceive journey. I swaddled her in a pink blanket and coddled her as if she were my actual baby. I was aching on the inside over the fact that my body wasn’t doing what it was supposed to in creating a human being, and I latched on to the next best thing. A beautiful kitten that we affectionately gave the name of Stella. I wanted to come up with a name that was as stunning as she, but one that we couldn’t use for our future daughters. Since my first daughter’s name is Bella, Stella was the perfect choice.
As much as I am devastated over the loss of Stella, I was not “her person“. That would be Bella. She slept with her every night and would stick around for Bella to pet and love on. Other cats ran away from my daughter, but Stella didn’t. She was her right side companion.
When I told Bella the news of Stella crossing over to the Rainbow Bridge, she was confused at first. This wasn’t her first experience with the matters of death, but it was her first experience dealing with the death of a pet. She thought that Dennis was joking around, but then she soon came to the realization that this wasn’t a joke. This was real, and the pain from the grief was going to be even more real.
Once the news finally clicked, she became distant and wanted to be alone on the bedroom windowsill. It was a lot to take in for a 7 year old. The loss of her beloved Stella stung badly. After an hour of weeping, I thought that she might benefit from writing a goodbye letter to Stella. She said that she’d rather write a letter to Stella and for the mailman to send it to Heaven. She was too distraught for me to even argue (I wouldn’t have anyways). She spent approximately half an hour alone in my bedroom writing a letter to her kitty. I won’t share it’s contents as I’d like to keep her deep feelings towards the death private, but she wanted her Stella back. Writing this letter to Stella helped her cope with the influx of emotions overwhelming her. It calmed her down until bedtime, when the wave of grief struck again.
This Friday will be the first time I step foot inside of the house since her passing, as I’ve been out of town visiting family. I won’t be calling her name again. I won’t have random nudges against my legs. I won’t have her following me everywhere I go. There won’t be anymore busted and torn garbage bags, bread bags, socks or underwear either.
I’m not ready. I know there will be moments when I believe she’s still around and expect her to prance around me at any time. I’m crushed beyond belief.
Rest in paradise, Stella. See you again in Heaven. <3