A couple days after National Cat Lady Day felt like the perfect moment to pause and remember some of the beloved pets who have shaped our lives.

As a child, I vaguely remember a few dogs my parents had, but none that truly stayed with me. What I do remember more clearly are the stories—especially the ones about my mom and her beloved Siamese cats, a breed I’ve never had myself.

My first real “fur baby” as an adult came during my college years. Jasmine, a beautiful tabby, had more dog-like qualities than most cats. Her greatest trick? Playing fetch—usually with rubber bands. When I was pregnant with Kole and later placed on bedrest, Jasmine rarely left my side. She would sit with me for hours, perched nearby as if standing guard, quietly keeping me—and the baby—company.

Not long after, we welcomed Kala, our first Manx. She arrived with a big personality and a lot to teach us. The missing tail was the most obvious trait, but it was her boldness that defined her. She was our hunter, and unfortunately for Kole, she occasionally saw his toddler energy as something to stalk rather than tolerate.

Then came Dakota, our first dog. Part German Shepherd, part Labrador, he was everything a young family could hope for—loyal, protective, and deeply devoted, especially to Kole. Dakota preferred life outdoors and never quite embraced being inside for long. He was steady, reliable, and one of the finest dogs we’ve ever known.  Losing Dakota was one of the hardest moments we faced as a family. Kole was away at basic training at the time, and we had planned to wait until he came home to tell him. But somehow, he already knew. During a phone call, he felt it—and we all ended up crying together from miles apart. That bond never needed words.

Over the years, more animals joined our family, including Chai, a sweet older cat, who became Kaleigh’s companion. Her passing marked one of Kaleigh’s first real experiences with loss. It wasn’t easy, but we believed it was important for our children to understand the fragility of life and the responsibility that comes with loving a pet.

There were more cats—tuxedos, a tortie—and a couple more dogs, including our “Covid puppy.” As the kids grew and eventually moved on, the animals remained. Somehow, the house has never felt empty, even as we are embracing our empty-nester years. At one point, we even hosted a “grand cat” for a while as Kaleigh was transitioning into her next chapter.

Pets bring their share of chaos and inconvenience, but they also give us something irreplaceable. They show up for us in quiet ways, offering comfort during life’s biggest transitions. They become part of our routines, our memories, and our hearts.  And despite all the times we’ve said, “No more animals,” it never quite sticks.  Because at some point the “cat lady” says, “But it’s a Manx—we know that breed,” or “She’s a torbico—we’ve never had one of those,” and just like that, the door—and our hearts—open again.

So I have to say,

"Welcome, sweet Penny."

May you feel all the love that came before you—and all the love still waiting.