Crystal Aura Gaze

Another way to phrase this question would be, “how do I cope with the mortality of my cat?”

As a cat mom, I’m highly aware that my cats are only here for a short time, and that their lives may be cut even shorter than expected. To be honest, it gives me a lot of anxiety. So I wanted to write an article on how to cope with this stress.

The truth is that all pets live much shorter than us (with some exceptions, sure, like the tortoise.) And the grief of losing a pet is extremely painful. So you may think, what’s even the point? Why attach myself to a cat, knowing I’ll have to grieve their inevitable loss? In my opinion, you should never let this fear stop you from having a pet who you will grow to love.

“It is better to have loved and lost than never loved at all.”

When it comes to cats specifically, they do live much longer than most pets. Rodents only live a few years, reptiles are highly variable, and dogs generally live up to ten years (more or less, depending on breed.) Caretaking is not that challenging and they tend to have minimal health issues. So right away, you can find comfort in that your cat has a great chance of staying alive for 15+ years, maybe even 20 or more. That’s a long time!

Of course, there are no guarantees when it comes to their health, or any kinds of accidents. There are tips for keeping your cats safe and well — such as keeping them indoors, a high quality diet, and annual vet appointments. But the reality is that you can do everything right and still have some terrible luck.

My dad’s cat, Fasha, lived to be about 21-years old. She was born before he got married and passed away when I was in elementary school. A year later, we adopted Buttermilk, who passed at 9-years old, while I was in college. I always pictured Buttermilk being around for my twenties — but that was cut short. And a few months after that, my other cat, Penelope, also passed away. It was just as devastating, but with her being an older cat and living to a much older age, it was maybe slightly easier to cope with (devastating nevertheless.)

Adopting a cat is risky and comes with no promises. And so, you simply need to appreciate the time you have with them. There are many days when I don’t necessarily feel like cleaning the litter box or going out to buy more cat food. There’s plenty of times when I’ve been too exhausted to give my cats any attention. Being a cat parent is work — it takes time, money, and energy.

The reminder that our time is limited is what keeps me going on the days when I’m feeling tired, lazy, or distracted. I’m aware that our time together is sacred. And instead of making that a scary or dreadful thing, I can make that a very special thing. So, I take photos and videos to save for the future. I give them extra attention on the days when I don’t feel like dealing with them. And I savor every moment we have together, not knowing if this will be the last. That doesn’t have to be a morbid thing — it can be a beautiful thing. In that way, I never take my cats for granted.

I truly struggled with the death of my childhood cat, Buttermilk. Like I said, losing Penelope was also hard, but there was a little more acceptance in that she lived to an old age. I always thought about how his life was cut short. The year 2023 marked the point in which he would’ve been twenty years old, as he’d been born in 2003.

When the year 2023 came, it sort of brought me a sense of “peace” and “closure” to his death — because I knew by that point that his time certainly would’ve been up (or very close!) At that point, I could say to myself, “okay, he would’ve been gone by now anyway.” But the years before that, I’d sadly think to myself, “he would’ve been X years old now,” and it made me feel sad.

If I could go back in time to my ninth birthday, and someone told me that Buttermilk would only live for half of his potential lifespan, I still would’ve chosen him. I think it would have been a much greater loss to never have known him verses losing him at the time that I did. And so, I really do not think that fear of mortality should stop you from adopting your new cat, if you know that there’s going to be a special bond.

When one door closes, another door opens.

When one cat leaves, another cat comes in. The thing is, if Buttermilk had still been alive in 2016, then I never would’ve adopted my cat, Venus. In a perfect world, all of our cats live forever, and we continue taking on new cats — but life doesn’t work like that. There’s only room for a certain amount of cats in your life at a time. Each cat deserves the same amount of care and attention — and you can’t do that if you have too many cats! (Not to mention, it’s totally unsanitary!)

The grief of losing a cat is painful. But the joy of adopting a new cat is incredible. This is not to say that every cat can be “replaced.” You’ll never forget your old cat. But when a new cat enters your life, you can find a bit more peace and respect for your loss.

And finally, to get a little woo-woo, I believe that cats are here for a specific part of our lives, here for a reason, to guide us where we need to be at that time. Once that agreement is fulfilled, they go on to a better place. And I believe that in the afterlife, all of my cats will come and greet me (and they’ll have unlimited catnip!) You don’t need to believe that, but the possibility may bring you comfort.