05/27/2026
Last month, I experienced a loss like none other — a loss every pet parent sadly understands.
I lost my beloved, favorite-animal-that-ever-lived cat, Bruce… aka Brucie Marbles (his Prohibition-era gangster name, obviously). This was the pet who literally made it into my wedding vows, as I promised to at least TRY to love my husband as much as I loved Bruce. (Spoiler Alert: it never happened). I know so many of you have had your own heart-pet…that one animal who somehow owns every last vein in your body. Bruce was my once-in-a-lifetime soul animal.
I adopted Brucie on Valentine’s Day 2015, after seeing a photo from City Kitties, a local rescue. He was older (they guesstimated between 8-12!), blind, walked like a tiny drunk man because of his luxating patellae, and the rescue had superimposed a crown over his head in the photo (see third photo for his adoption photo). A CROWN, y’all! I knew instantly he was mine. I figured if I could give him six good months, I’d be lucky. Instead, I got 11 years. Eleven years of the loudest purr imaginable, surviving surgery and cancer, and bringing more joy to my life than I could ever explain.
I’m sharing this because pet grief deserves to be talked about out loud. These are not “just pets.” They are family members, constants, witnesses to our lives. Nothing will ever be the same without Bruce — and thank heavens for that. To love an animal that deeply is one of life’s greatest gifts, even when the loss feels unbearable. And one thing I’ve been reminded of over and over these past few weeks is how beautiful this community is. We surround each other in the hard moments. We understand. We’ve been there. 🩷
