Some, um 3 ish years ago, a very good friend passed away unexpectedly and round about the same time the first of mine and the wife’s mice also shuffled off this mortal coil; I am sure that at least another of the subsequent four-leggeds also passed away at an inconvenient time. Regardless, today, with a sense of irony, one of the pair of fancy mice in our home headed on to the next world.
I’d like to say that I could be rational, expectant and unmoved by a pet’s demise and yet every time (even after 15 or so pet deaths in my lifetime) I am kicked in the gut.
My poor beloved wife finds the death of our small things especially hard. Partially she feels responsible for their care and therefore their life span but partially because she finds relating to the inarticulate, hopeful, antisocial and yet forgiving and loving beings who expect so little from her so moving and so comforting.
Although it seems daft, some days it is easier to grieve for something that expects nothing and asks nothing.