Tea & Tales

Tuesday was one of those days that hits you harder than expected. My nearly 19-year-old cat was due for a dental operation, but his blood work came back with concerning results. After much deliberation, Gavin and I made the heart-wrenching decision to say goodbye. It’s never easy to let go of a pet, especially one who’s been a constant presence in your life for almost two decades.

This experience also brought to light some of the challenges of working in the medical field. I’m currently on an A&E rotation, and the timing couldn’t have been more difficult. I found out about my cats condition just an hour and a half before my shift was supposed to start. I immediately called work to explain the situation and that the vet couldn’t schedule an appointment until later in the evening. For me, there was no question – I needed to be there for my cat. Pets are family, and I firmly believe that their well-being should come first. It’s a sentiment I think many pet owners can relate to. However, navigating the expectations of work added an extra layer of stress. I was initially told I’d need to use annual leave, but I ultimately decided to take a mental health day. My reasoning was simple: if I’m not in the right headspace to make clinical decisions, it’s not safe for me to be at work. Safe to say, work were not pleased about this.

This week has been tough. I’ve always considered myself fairly resilient when it comes to death, but losing a pet is a different kind of pain. Maybe it says something about my personality that I am able to deal with human death much better than animal death. Pets give us unconditional love and companionship, and their absence leaves a void that’s hard to fill. I am a firm advocate for the fact that humans do not deserve animals. This loss brought back memories of my dog, Neville, who passed away very unexpectedly when I was away in India 2 years ago. The grief from that still lingers, and now I’m also processing the loss of my cat, who’s been with me since I was 10 years old.

Speaking of which, let me tell you about this cat. His name was Little Ant – yes, named after Ant and Dec, because 10-year-old me was apparently obsessed. Weird right? I guess I won’t miss having to explain that one. He came into my life in the most unexpected way. My parents had tickets to see Robbie Williams, but last-minute childcare issues meant my dad stayed home with me. To make up for the fact that my brother got to go to the concert, they surprised me with a kitten. It was a win-win situation: I got a pet, Little Ant got a loving home after being rescued from a less-than-ideal environment, and I didn’t even care about Robbie Williams. Jokes on them.

Little Ant was the kind of cat who could win over even the most skeptical of people. He was gentle, affectionate, and had a way of making everyone feel loved. He was there for me through so many ups and downs, especially during my struggles with mental health in my teens and early twenties. His presence was a constant source of comfort and love. I have never known such a purry cat, and he constantly reminded me that I had given him a life that he loved.

Saying goodbye to him was incredibly difficult, but I’m grateful for the time we had together. Pets teach us so much about love, loyalty, and resilience. They remind us to cherish the moments we have, even when those moments are bittersweet.

To anyone who’s ever lost a pet, I see you. It’s okay to grieve, to take the time you need, and to prioritise your well-being. And to those who don’t understand, I hope this offers a glimpse into why pets mean so much to us. They’re not just animals – they’re family.

Here’s to Little Ant, Nev, and all the pets who’ve left paw prints on our hearts. 🐾 ❤️