Goodbye, Sonny

I was heartbroken to discover Tuesday morning that Sonny, my favorite cat, had died during the night. I have no idea what killed him, but I found him spread out in one of his favorite sleeping spots, so I assume he died in his sleep.

I’ve only had Sonny for a couple of years, but he had become my favorite of my current group of cats. He was the most friendly and loving of all the ones I have now — and one of the most loving and trusting I’ve ever known. He was constantly at my elbow and in my lap — always wanting my attention.

I never like to lose any of them, but to lose this one really, really hurts. Even though I only had him for about two years, it feels as though he’s been here forever, just because he had quickly played such a central role in my everyday life.

It’s odd now some animal deaths are harder to take than others, depending on how much that particular cat or dog meant to you. There’s no way I could tell you how sweet and loving Sonny had become since he transitioned from feral street cat to happy indoor cat. I’ve only had a few over the years who were this loving and trusting. They don’t come along very often.

I’ve never yet cried about the death of a human being, but I do cry about deaths such as Sonny’s. Dogs and cats mean more to me than most people do. They’re more loving and trusting than most people are — and they need us, too. There’s a symbiotic bond between certain animals and people that’s hard to recreate anywhere else in life. And this particular death is going to shake me up for awhile.

The only good thing I can say is that he had two years of a very good life. He had lived on the street as a stray before I took him in, so I know what he’s had was better than what he had before. He was a very, very happy cat. He had someone who loved him and spent a lot of time with him — and he acted very content.

That will be more consolation later, but right now it just hurts to have lost him.