In a very bad year where I have lost some human loved ones suddenly and horribly, I find it is very difficult at the moment to cope with the loss of my oldest and dearest animal friend, Ziggy the cat, who died suddenly on Monday morning.

I would appreciate thoughts from others who have grieved lost pets. I have lost them before, I grew up with animals, but this one had a specal bond with me. He greeted me at the door each day, slept in my bed each night, and strange as it may seem is the closest thing I have ever had to a long-term partner (and certainly the only one who I have loved and who has loved me so purely and unconditionally).

Ziggy was 16. He was a great wanderer and outdoor cat for many years, until he was hit by a car and almost lost his life five years ago. He could not move his back legs for a month, and when it happened the vets all recommended euthanasia. But after five days in intensive care and lots of prayer he recovered almost fully!   Since then I have let him outside supervised, and always made sure to live in apartments with access to a yard or a porch so he could go outside as often as possible.

His sudden death this week follows recent deterioration in his condition. In the last three weeks or so he lost weight and had trouble with his back legs failing. I took to sleeping on a mattress on the floor so he could sleep somewhere warm with me at night, because he could not jump onto the other bed or the sofa and had been sleeping in odd, cold places on the floor. I took him to the vet last Thursday and just got his blood test results the day he died. They indicated liver problems and anemia, which together might have meant lymphoma, or possibly hepatitis or other liver failng condition. Maybe it is best in the long run this happened when it did, as he may have had to face chemotherapy or other treatments. But I am so sad he died alone and feel I might have prevented it. He was missing all night (did not come sleep with me as he had been) and the next morning I could not find him anywhere in the apartment, and I knew I had not opened the front or back doors to the porches that night. I did so that morning, as usual, to let the cats out and hoping that would bring Ziggy out from wherever he was hiding. A little while later, unable to focus on much else, I headed down to the basement with some laundry. I found him on the first floor landing. It is not clear what happened. He was apparently trying to get outside. He could not bypass the plank of wood I bar the stairs with (though he used to be able to knock it over sometimes), so he slipped through the railings and either made his way down from the second floor landing, or possibly fell, although he did not appear to have been injured in that way. He was already dead, but still warm, so it must have happened soon after I opened the door. I feel fairly sure he was near the end and trying to find somewhere to die because he would never have tried to jump like that otherwise. It was not like him to fail to seek me out first thing in the morning, and I wish he had. I always tried to do the best I could for him and I feel like I failed him when he needed me.

Sorry to just rant like this but I know many Mudcatters are animal lovers and might understand. I have other cats but no one can replace this special friend of a decade and a half. They all laid with him after I cleaned and wrapped him up. I laid him one last time on his hammock on the back porch, as it was a sunny day yesterday. If it had rained as it did the day he died, I probably would have opted to have him cremated. But instead I knew what would be more suitable for him.

I have buried him in my garden so he can be outdoors always, chasing bugs and snakes and mice and birds, chewing on grass, soaking up the sunshine, sniffing at the breeze.

rest in peace, Ziggy, and I will see you again, I hope.