Boris Katloff, 2021-2025. Rest in peace my beautiful friend.

I never imagined life without Boris. He wasn’t just a pet—he was a constant, a presence woven into the fabric of my days. A gray sphynx with black-tipped ears and green eyes, he was more than a cat; he was my companion, my shadow, my quiet confidant. And now, he’s gone.

The grief hit hard, sharper than I expected. Boris wasn’t just a pet I loved; he was part of my identity. I built stories around him, shared my days with him, and in many ways, he inspired my creativity. His absence feels like a hollow space that can’t be filled.

At first, I let myself sink into the sadness. Grief demands to be felt, and I couldn’t push it away. I carried his memory into every room, expecting to see him perched somewhere, watching me with those knowing green eyes. The silence in the house became a reminder of what I’d lost.

But Boris wouldn’t want me to stay lost in grief. He was a cat of action—curious, adventurous, always moving forward. So I started looking for small ways to honor him while finding my own path forward.

Boris was more than just a house cat—he was an adventurer. He traveled with us everywhere, joining us on camping trips, riding on trains and planes, and always staying close. He was my constant companion, never far from my side. Every night, he would curl up next to me, a warm and steady presence that made every place feel like home. His adventurous spirit and unwavering loyalty made him more than a pet; he was family.

I let myself remember the joy. The way he’d curl up next to me while I worked, the little chirps he’d make when he wanted attention, the way he’d inspect everything with that intense feline curiosity. I wrote about him, capturing his spirit in words, knowing that even though he’s gone, his story will always be part of mine.

I also found comfort in talking about him. Sharing stories with those who knew him, and even those who didn’t, kept his presence alive. It’s easy to feel alone in grief, but I discovered that so many others have walked this path and understand. Grief shared is grief lessened, even if just a little.

Steps to Nurture Grief and Build Resilience

Grieving the loss of a beloved pet is a deeply personal journey, but there are ways to navigate the pain and move toward healing:

  1. Allow Yourself to Feel – Don’t rush the process or suppress your emotions. Grief is a testament to the love you shared.
  2. Create a Tribute – Whether it’s writing, creating art, or planting a tree in their honor, finding a way to celebrate their memory can be healing.
  3. Talk About Them – Share memories with friends, family, or even online communities that understand the pain of pet loss.
  4. Keep a Routine – Pets bring structure to our lives. Maintaining a routine can help ease the sense of emptiness.
  5. Consider a Legacy Project – Volunteering at an animal shelter or supporting pet adoption initiatives can be a way to channel grief into something meaningful.
  6. Seek Support – Grief groups, pet loss hotlines, and therapy can provide comfort when the sadness feels overwhelming.
  7. Be Kind to Yourself – Healing takes time, and it’s okay to have good days and bad days. Give yourself the grace to heal at your own pace.

Resources for Coping with Pet Loss

  • The Rainbow Bridge Support Community – A place to share memories and receive support from others who have lost pets.
  • Pet Loss Hotlines – Many veterinary schools and animal organizations offer grief hotlines to help those struggling with loss.
  • Books on Pet Loss – Titles like The Loss of a Pet by Wallace Sife and Goodbye, Friend by Gary Kowalski offer comfort and guidance.
  • Journaling and Creative Expression – Writing down memories or creating art can be a powerful way to process grief.
  • Online Pet Memorials – Websites where you can create a digital tribute to your pet, keeping their memory alive in a meaningful way. Critters.com is one such example.

Slowly, I began to shift my focus from what I lost to what I had. Boris gave me years of companionship, laughter, and love. He taught me resilience—how to be bold, how to adapt, how to land on my feet even when I wasn’t sure I could. And so, in his memory, I remind myself to do the same.

If you’re grieving the loss of a pet, know that you’re not alone. The pain is real because the love was real. But that love doesn’t disappear; it transforms. It becomes the stories we tell, the lessons we carry, and the resilience we find in moving forward—always remembering, always loving, but also living.