Family on training wheels
A pet is like a family member on training wheels; It’s a cute, fluffy thing that helps you ease into the big, terrifying lessons of life — responsibility, unconditional love, and heartbreak
When your pet gets sick, you learn how to take care of somebody you love. When your pet dies, it’s the heartbreak that teaches you grief, so by the time nana passes away, you’re prepared. Although, it was backwards for me. My nana died in August – and by the time my cat Sooka passed away in April… I was used to crying in the shower.
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 five… you get experienced. Screens on the windows, lemon spray by the door, ‘Not so fast, kitty!’
They say cats would often run away 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, Sooka, run wild. But my selfishness – or maybe it was love – wouldn’t let me.
Because Sooka was special – the sweetest, the chillest cat – her kiwi eyes they were so human – not in shape but in their depth, it felt like they were quietly saying, “Must be tough being a human. Pet me behind the ear – it will make you feel better”.
At the animal hospital, her body 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 my Uber sees me holding the box in front of the urgent vet care, he does the math. Box, animal hospital. Dead pet. Our eyes met, and I could almost hear his thoughts: “NOPE!” My phone pings. Ride cancelled.
I don’t know why he canceled. Maybe he thought dead cats brought bad luck. Maybe because I called Uber X instead of Uber Pet and Uber Pet is ten bucks extra (I didn’t try to low-ball him, I swear, I just felt that dead cat is not quite a pet, really).
After learning your pet is dead, after dealing with $$$$ paperwork, getting your ride canceled felt like being stabbed by a hundred swords. I don’t know how I didn’t break down right there. I guess growing up in a dysfunctional family teaches you to put on a “I just won $2 in a scratcher”.
Cursing smart drivers, I walked over to nearby Safeway – boom, in two minutes I’m in a Kia. 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?’
Cake? What cake? OH! Right. THE BOX.
“Yes!” I lie, because what else am I supposed to say? “No, it’s actually my dead cat in here. Surprise!”
Nate nods approvingly. “Nice. What kind of cake is it?”
My brain scrambles. “Ummm… Red Velvet.” I mean, yeah, at this point, why not.
I didn’t know why I said ‘red velvet’ but looking back, I realized it must’ve been because of the red velvet lining you see in caskets. My subconscious made a very dark joke.
Nate’s all excited, he loves red velvet, I agree with him, ‘sooo good’.
So there I was, in the backseat of a speeding car, holding the corpse of a cat who had been more constant than any human in my life. My heart was broken. The sun was shining. Nate was excited about cake.
This is life. You lose somebody you love, and the world doesn’t stop. The sun keeps shining, strangers keep smiling, and you end up laughing about cake flavors on the way home. Sooka’s final lesson: keep moving forward, even when the wheels come off.