Loss.

“Do you hear any sound?” My mom asked me, her eyes still fixed on the road. There’s a slight grin on her face. There were crinkles in her eyes, which meant she was happy.

“No,” I said, nervously. “Why? Should I be concerned?”

“You don’t hear any meowing?” She finally took off her gaze from the road and looked at me. She was smiling from ear to ear. “Look in the back seat,” She said.

I think I froze for a while, trying to put the pieces together. I took a deep breath and turned my head around.

There was a green picnic box covered with cloth. I struggled with the seat belt, stretching as far as I could and took the cloth off.

I fell in love the moment I saw its cute little face. The kitten surprised to see me, kept meowing. I stayed in the most awkward position for the remaining ten-minute ride home with my head turned sideways, admiring the little fur ball.

We got home and I let it out of the box. And the rest is history.


For anyone who has ever had a pet, losing them would be the worst nightmare. But, it is inevitable. We all have to die someday. Animals, too.

In my twenty long years of life, I’ve lost family members. But none has affected me so much as the death of my pet cat.

Unfortunately, my cat died in mid-May 2015.

I know some of you will judge and say “It’s just a cat”.

Well, my cat wasn’t just a pet to me. He was family.

Like a little brother. I was the youngest of the family. For eight years, he was the baby of the house. Making us laugh in every silly gesture, every silly sleeping position. It would take an eternity to write about the things that I love about him.

This week didn’t start off really well. I found a song that I loved. I haven’t heard this song since early 2014.

The song is called Strange Love by Karen O.

It was the soundtrack to Frankenweenie, a story about young Frankenstein who tried to resurrect his dog, who died after getting hit by a car.

I literally cried when the movie ended because I was just so affected by the story. Rediscovering this song made me depressed.

I remember going back home (I was still in studying at the time and was living away from home on weekdays) and hugging the hell out of him.

This post is the first of a three-part series.
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