Our kids had a golden hamster named Pucky. While he amused them and they cared deeply for him, Pucky also spent part of each day hanging out with me or riding in my shirt pocket. 

Hamsters’ lifespan is less than three years. About that time Pucky’s fur turned from gold to grey then developed white streaks within a month. After the kids were in bed one night, he began shaking. I wrapped him in a dry washcloth, tucked him near. He passed. There would be future hamsters and gerbils, but they were not as cuddly and left this world curled in a corner of their homes.

We have always been a dog family, living with five over forty plus years. Our now adult children lean toward cats. Dogs’ personalities unfold over years of sharing home, food, play, work. Our pets age, we age. Like any family member dogs and cats create good memories, and some better forgotten. 

Now we’re caring for our crazy, fun-loving, gentle Havanese in his final stretch. Just like older people, he’s developed an assortment of health issues– dementia, mild arthritis, high blood pressure. Life is still good, just quieter with more need for reassurance and assistance. We are in the palliative care time. Like Pucky, the hamster, change is more rapid which makes our time together bittersweet. 

The most difficult part of adopting a dog or cat is the knowledge that their shorter lifespans mean some form of heartbreak down the road. Yet some of us open ourselves over and over to a companion who loves to walk in any weather, play each day, protect the front door, and loves unconditionally. Cats put on a good show, but they’re sweeties in their own aloof way. 

If only we could move through our palliative care stage comforted by love, a few meds, an extra cookie or two, cuddles, and a few minutes of massage each day.