Sound of Change

You never know how much a sound affects you until it’s gone. You hear the same thing over and over that when it stops, you look for it.

For me, that sound is my cat’s collar. My putty tat of 18 years passed away a couple weeks ago. After she was gone, I wore her collar on my wrist in her memory. Unfortunately, I had to take it off. Every time it jingled, I found myself looking for her. I expected her to come trotting in the room, jumping on the bed, or simply being there. Her collar lives on my nightstand now and it’s strange for it to be so quiet.

The sound of the collar isn’t the only change in the house since my kitty cat passed away. All my routines are different. She used to wake me up, follow me to the bathroom, hangout while I got ready for work, watch shows with me, go to bed with me, steal my cheez-its, and share my ice cream. It’s strange how everything feels different with her gone, but I guess after 18 years you can expect that. She’s been around for more than half my life, if that tells you anything.

It makes me wonder what other noises, routines, or life moments change when loss is involved. Whether it’s an animal or a person. There’s change involved. It’s hard to adjust to and we try to fill the void with other things. Yet, nothing can replace the nose licks in the middle of the night or the way her fur shines in the sunlight.

I miss my pretty girl everyday and it’s still hard to believe she’s gone. Whatever you’re missing, whatever loss you’ve endured, you’re not alone in your grief. It’s a pain we all feel when loss rears its head. It’s how we know we loved and made a difference.

As an animal caretaker, I like to believe that the greater the pain in the loss of an animal, the greater the difference you made for that animal. I hope to build strong bonds with the animals I stand for, earn their trust, and help them enjoy life. If that means losing them causes me pain, then it’s worth it. I’ll feel like I accomplished my goal of making a difference.

That doesn’t mean the pain is easy. That doesn’t mean the change isn’t noticeable. The gap where they were is real and accepting it is difficult. Make sure you grieve. Make sure you take care. Let the loss run its course. Then, when you’re ready, get back up again. There are more differences to be made.

You can make a new, brighter sound of change.