LAST week, we said goodbye to our fifteen year old cat, Stella. It was really tough on the kids, but a valuable life lesson for them too. We knew she’d been unwell for a while, so they were prepared to a certain extent, but it still came as a shock for them.

Myself and Ray got Stella as a kitten, way back when our kids were only twinkles in our eyes. She had been with us through it all ever since. Back in our heyday, when we fell in the door after the nightclub, devouring curry chips, there was Stella delivering a withering death stare, as only a cat can.

When we brought each of our newborn babies home from the hospital, she sniffed them tentatively and then retreated to the farthest corners of the house; she had no intention of interacting with them. While this mightn’t paint her in a particularly favourable light, it was ideal that she had no desire to be anywhere near babies. It was only when each of the kids reached the age of three that she finally decided they were trustworthy – and therefore worthy of her affection.

She crept onto their little laps and into their hearts, one paw at a time, and there she remained for the rest of her days. In the last year, she even took to sleeping on my daughter’s bed. This is something I never thought I’d allow (or publicly admit), given how unhygienic it is. But Stella somehow earned the right to live out her days on her own terms, because she was such a good little cat. She was house trained much like a dog, with a cat flap that allowed her to come and go as she pleased; no stinky litter tray required. She never jumped up on the table or kitchen counters, even if there were tasty leftovers on plates to tempt her. She left the Christmas tree alone and never scratched the furniture. I’ve seen videos of cats online, deliberately knocking vases off tables, digging in house plants and drinking out of the toilet – such unsavoury thoughts never even crossed Stella’s mind.

A couple of months ago, I heard on the radio that an Irish animal charity was calling on employers to offer compassionate leave to staff who suffer the death of a pet. I’ll be honest, I remember thinking it was all a bit excessive and unnecessary; mollycoddling, Gen Z nonsense. Well, the day Stella died, I ugly-cried for hours on end. Even though I knew it was coming, it hit me much harder than I anticipated.

Breaking it to the kids when they came home from school set me off again. We all cried together for Stella. It was touching to see them comforting each other in their grief – passing around tissues, getting drinks for each other and sharing hugs. Needless to say, there was no homework done that evening, and I was grateful that their teachers and classmates were very kind and sympathetic when they returned to school the next day.

There’s no doubt about it – the pets we welcome into our homes leave indelible paw prints on our hearts, and for children, they learn in time that the hardest part of owning a pet is saying that last goodbye.

Louise Flanagan is an admin of Letterkenny Babies Facebook page and the author of the children’s book series Dragonterra and Dream Beasts. www.dragonterra.ie