The stray

Last night I was driving around when I spotted something on the road. At first, I thought it was just a fox. However, soon I noticed a bright collar around a little cat’s neck. The car was pulled over, and I jumped out. Having fostered and rescued dogs for years, I was ready to run.

The first pet I lost

I couldn’t handle the idea that she would not be here anymore, and to cope, I decided to act like I didn’t love her. I would play with my dog and ignore her. I still slept with her and did everything I had to do to keep her comfortable, but I tried as hard as possible to limit our time together. I couldn’t handle the pain without her. She was my best friend. She always knew exactly what to do to make me smile, and I treated her like nothing when she needed me most. She didn’t understand my pain. She didn’t understand why I was afraid to love her. She didn’t know.