Afraid of his own shadow, he is the bravest of the brave. Struck down in his fifteenth year by cancer. How? Chemicals in the water? It attacks his tongue, an important part of anyone’s anatomy, but crucial for a cat’s survival. Surgery is not an option and all you can do is keep him alive, for now.

Armed with a concoction of feline pate (cat food), blue-green algae, all manner of cancer-fighting herbs, garlic, brewer’s yeast, castor oil (in the food and warm packs on his tummy), powdered vitamins and minerals, you watch your little friend wasting away to nothing, one strong little soldier, fighting the good fight, until he becomes a scarecrow version of what a cat is supposed to be. Then you start to realize you must be a monster for making him linger, prolonging this once happy creature’s miserable existence. All you want to do is save him, so he can live a little longer. You can do it!

But finally, there is only one choice left. And you ask yourself: Is it the right thing to do? And you tell yourself it absolutely is the right thing to do, poor baby. But, as the ragged hole in your heart slowly knits itself a little blanket of scar tissue, you still never really know for sure. What if the cancer just gives up and goes away? What if... ?

But it doesn’t leave. And he’s not strong enough to keep fighting. So, you give the order to inject the fluid, you decide to stop the brave little heart. And you tell yourself you’re doing it out of love - and you are - but the image of him wandering down the dark path alone haunts your soul. The hardest part is knowing that once the silver cord is cut, there’s no bringing him back. In seconds, he’s gone, and so is half your heart.

Death is irreversible, except perhaps in rare cases of divine intervention. No matter what you do or what you could have/should have done, it never feels like it was enough, not nearly enough. You ask yourself, isn’t the power of love strong enough to overcome sickness and death? And the answer is: No, love cannot be used that way. Love works undercover, behind the scenes, teaching us to accept the things it cannot fix. Love is there - in memories, photographs, stories. Love hides in your heart, waiting to heal it.

We are talking about an animal, but it’s all relative, isn’t it, because we are all animals. Humans, though, get to experience the painful, rough sand-grains of emptiness and sorrow that only the waves of time can wash away, gently cleansing the bleeding wounds that open up after you kill your best friend. Eventually, the pain fades, but not the sadness. It hides in your heart, too.