The night before my cat Oscar died, I was at Saguijo with my boyfriendcasino infinity, idly watching a gig. Acts like One Click Straight, Lions & Acrobats, and Ena Mori, sang and danced before me. I sat at a table near the stage, murmuring lyrics under my breath and tapping my feet to the music, trying my hardest to enjoy it. The music rang shrilly in my head, going in one ear and out the other.
I wasn’t too sure why I was there in the first place—that morning, the vet had called to tell me the worst possible thing any pet owner would want to hear—Oscar was dying. He was on stage three of chronic kidney disease, and they couldn’t say how long he had left.
Perhaps I went to the bar anyway in the hopes of having weeks, maybe even months, with my gentle, starry-eyed boy. My eyes were heavy, exhausted from crying earlier. I Googled the life expectancy of chronic kidney disease while the bands played in the background. Google said diagnosed cats could live up to six months. I believed it. Or at least, I wanted to.
Oscar hated being carried—the first time I truly embraced him in my arms was the day he died. I cradled him close to me and wept, his body, once so warm and soft, now coldThe next morning, the vet called once again to say Oscar had collapsed while in confinement. They managed to revive him, and he was still breathing when I saw him, weakly laying on a blanket, with an oxygen mask to his muzzle. I sobbed at the sight, his vet cried along with me. I knew in my heart that he didn’t have long, so we finally drove him home.
Oscar with a scarf
In the car, he took one last breath, a painful high-pitched cry, and passed on before even reaching the house.
Oscar hated being carried—the first time I truly embraced him in my arms was the day he died. I cradled him close to me and wept, his body, once so warm and soft, now cold.
He was only three years old.
***
When I first saw a photo of my Oscar, I knew from that moment that he was the one for me. It honestly wasn’t a great picture—he was scrawny. His jet black fur was scruffy. He had a mean look on his face. His foster parents described him as an affectionate angel with a voracious appetite and a soft chirp for a meow. I trusted them despite his appearance. I was going to take this eight-month old boy home.
Boss Oscar
I was 27 at the time, with no experience with pets. I never really liked animals as a child but grew to enjoy cat videos during their great renaissance via internet meme culture. It was mid-2020 and we were locked up in our homes during a global pandemic, bored out of our minds (and perhaps slightly depressed), so I thought that the best time to get a cat was now.
Oscar fascinated me from the moment I adopted him. He smelled great without needing to take a bath. He immediately knew how to use the litter box. He was always aware of his dinner time, bugging me as early as 3 p.m. so I could get him his food. He loved being around me, never failing to place himself on my desk while I worked. He greeted every visitor who came into the house. He slept at our feet every night.
Cats are proud creatures that can offer vital life lessons if you observe them closely. They teach us the value of self-reliance and personal space, the importance of flexibility and resilience in the face of change, and the power of living in the eternal present moment, among othersCats are proud creatures that can offer vital life lessons if you observe them closely. They teach us the value of self-reliance and personal space, the importance of flexibility and resilience in the face of change, the power of living in the eternal present moment, the confidence to assert our needs and set boundaries, and the profound significance of unconditional love and touch. All this, plus the fact that they’re extremely goofy, silly, and plain fun to be around. Those cat videos on YouTube and TikTok certainly don’t lie.
Oscar was all this and more—he was my best friend.
***
No one prepares you for death. I thought I knew it quite well, having lost my dad at an early age, and my beloved lolo when I was in college. I’ve faced death as a child and made it into my adult years without that many issues, so how hard could it be?
But the loss of a pet was more devastating than I imagined.
Oscar giving his best Logan Roy impression
Until Oscar, I had never experienced love from a pet. Everyone gushes about romantic love, parental love, platonic love from your friends—but what you get from a pet is love in its purest form. It’s so simple, so wholesome, with no expectations or restraints. Our pets look at us like we’re the best damn thing in this whole world despite us having so many flaws. And that’s what made it so painful.
To lose Oscar was a different type of heartbreak I have never felt before. I cried for weeks, buried myself in my work so I could avoid thinking about how lonely the house was without him. My second cat, Nemo, was still around, but Oscar was my constant companion. No one slept beside me as I worked. No one begged for food at the lunch table with big, bright green eyes. No one pestered me at dinnertime to prepare the cat food. No one followed me into the bathroom. No one hugged my legs anymore at night.
Oscar and his best friend Nemo
My best friend was gone, and I had to accept it. It was hard not to blame myself for what happened. Oscar had always been sickly from the moment I adopted him. I know we get our pets aware of the fact that we will eventually outlive them in the not-so-distant future, but I expected him to still be around well into my 30s or early 40s.
Should I have spent more on better quality food for him? Should I have tried harder to look for a vet that worked better for his weak immune system? Should I have confined him in another hospital that week? Should I even have confined him in the first place, knowing he hated the vet’s office?
But dwelling on these questions won’t change anything. Oscar was never going to come back no matter how much I agonized over it.
Yes, it hurts like hell when they’re gone, but the love that you experience in the process is what makes this one life we’ve got worth livingFilipino writer Jessica Zafra mentioned in her own lament for her departed cat, “Again, I wondered how my life would’ve turned out if I hadn’t started adopting cats. I’d have fewer responsibilities, less anxiety over their health. But where would I put all this love? You have to put your love somewhere or else it turns rancid and bitter. That is even sadder than loss.”
To love anyone or anything at all is the bravest thing you could do—an offering of our vulnerable selves to the world. We constantly expose ourselves to the inevitability of losing it, especially with the knowledge that pets just don’t live as long as we do. Yes, it hurts like hell when they’re gone, but the love that you experience in the process is what makes this one life we’ve got worth living.
Oscar hated being carried
I don’t just love the times I spent with Oscar. I love the person I have become because of Oscar. I do my best at work not just for myself and my family but to give the best possible life for the rest of my cats—Nemo, Milhouse, and Jools. I’m softer, kinder to other living beings, more mindful of my actions. I laugh more around my cats, and make memories I’ll tell my children about when I’m old. And most importantly, I have so much more room to give and accept love, from both the animals and people in my life.
That in itself, transcends the pain of loss. If I could turn back time knowing the outcome, I would adopt Oscar all over again. For his love, his lessons, and his companionship, I remain grateful.
Oscar’s viewing ceremony
***
We cremated Oscar on a sunny Saturday morning, at a quaint and charming pet memorial center in Tagaytay. The staff at the center even prepared a little viewing ceremony where they placed him in a small, Oscar-sized casket. After my family and I said goodbye to him and waited for his remains, we had lunch at a restaurant that had a field filled with animals—sheep, birds, horses, turkeys that we were running away from.
I don’t just love the times I spent with Oscar. I love the person I have become because of OscarI thought of Oscar running around in his own wide and lush field, wherever he was.
“Animals are inspirational. They don’t know how to lie. They are natural forces,” writes Charles Bukowski in his book “On Cats.” “TV can make me ill in five minutescasino infinity, but I can look at an animal for hours and find nothing but grace and glory, life as it should be.”