A pet is like a family member on training wheels; it’s a cute little thing that teaches us big lessons in responsibility and unconditional love.

When the pet gets sick, you learn to take care of it as you would for a baby. When your pet dies – it’s the first heartbreak that gets you ready for a bigger heartbreak down the line – by the time your nana dies, you’re already prepared to how painful it’s going to be – but how it will get easier with time.

My cat Sooka died last March. It hit me hard but – my nana died the year before. I guess, I got a head start on wailing in the shower. By the time Sooka perished, I was warmed up to deal with grief. I thought.

Sooka was the first pet that didn’t bail on me. I had cats before – but they all ran off before the final curtain. Sooka stuck around. Probably because by the cat number 5… you get experienced. Screens on the windows, lemon spray by the door, ‘Nah-uh. Not so fast, kitty cat!’

They say cats would often run off to die away from anyones eyes. In her final year, Sooka made a few attempts to sneak off, too. Part of me considered letting the door swing wide, go, run wild. But my selfishness – or maybe it was love – wouldn’t let me.

Because Sooka was special – the sweetest, the chillest cat – her eyes they were so human – not in shape but in their depth, it felt like they were quietly saying, ‘I understand what you’re going through… must be tough. Pet me behind the ear?’

Dealing with death… is an odd experience. A lot of crying and a lot of paperwork. Between the vet telling me ‘She’s not gonna make it,’ and getting her body back, the front desk guy with minor in sales, popped in to upsell me stuff like 5 times. ‘So sorry for your loss. Do you want to take the body or have us take care of the cremation? Great. Sign here.’

As you pet the dead animal, you can’t help thinking what you could have done differently, what signs have you missed, would it be different if you went to check ups more often. She looks like she’s asleep.’So sorry, do you want the deluxe cremation package or just the basic ash scatter? Sign here.’ I was away with family for the last 2 month of her life but the whole 2 months I kept looking over my shoulder, for some reason thinking she’s there. I saw Sooka in dreams, too. Maybe it was her way to connect with me? Tell me she’s not doing well? ‘Hey. Sorry to interrupt. Premium urn or simple wood box? Thank you. Your signature. Great. How do you want to pay?’

Pet death is an industry. It was actually nice to be interrupted, his questions pulled me out of crying into drinking water, breathing, and thinking logically.

I end up collecting her body. It was dispatched to me in a plain pet coffin. A neatly folded white cupboard box with handles. It looks discreet – blank, perfectly geometrical, nothing about it screamed ‘dead animal’.

It’s totally unsuspicious. But when the Uber driver sees me holding that box in front of the ‘Urgent Vet Care’… he does the math – the box, the urgent vet care… he is less than 20 feet away, our eyes LOCKED as I got a ping notifying me the ride was canceled.

Why? Hard to say. Maybe dead cats in the backseat bring bad luck. Maybe because I called uber x instead of uber pet and uber pet is 10 bucks extra? I didn’t try to low-ball him, I honestly felt that dead cat is not quite a pet, really.

That moment felt like being stabbed by a 100 swords. I don’t know how I didn’t break down right there. I guess, growing up in a dysfunctional family has its perks. You can pretend to smile like you just won 20 bucks while standing on the curb with a corpse in your right hand.

Well, I have to get home. Should I call another Uber? Then it hits me. I bet drivers have the 6th sense for sadness. Thy can smell a sad tipper 20 feet away. They see you walking out of Urgent Vet Care, and it’s like, ‘This girl’s grief is not gonna fill up the gas tank’.

So, what do I do? I see there is a Safeway nearby. Everybody walks out happier from a Safeway. People got their snacks, an item off the to-do list, a boost of dopamine from the retail therapy – they’re in a good mood, and ready to spread the wealth. I bet Uber drivers love happy shoppers.

I go to Safeway – and boom, in 2 minutes I’m in a Kia, heading to my casa. The new driver, Nate, is in a great mood. Seeing me with a big box in front of a Safeway he also does the math. ‘Did they send you to pick up the birthday cake?’

‘Yep, it’s a cake!’ I lie, because really, what am I going to say? ‘No, it’s actually my dead cat in here. Surprise!’

How funny and how ironic. A coffin that looks like a birthday cake. Do they serve cake at the funerals? I don’t remember. They should. Sad people NEED cake more. I need more cake. I wonder if they put bakeries next to the cemeteries. That’s like setting up girl-scout cookies next to marijuana dispensary. They’d sell out.

Nate asks what kind of cake is it. ‘Ummm… Red Velvet’ I lie, because at this point, WHY NOT? Nate’s all excited, he loves red velvet, I agree with him, ‘sooo good’.

Here I am in the backseat of a speeding car with a corpse of cat who had been more constant than any human in my life. She is in a cake box, my heart is broken, the sun is shining, the driver is oblivious, and we’re laughing about cake flavors. Sooka’s final lesson: how to keep moving forward, even when the wheels come off.