My beautiful boy has died and it’s my fault.

I let my cat out at 5.30 yesterday, knowing I’d be gone to work at 7.

We took him in nearly 3 years ago. His owner had died and he was basically a stray. Albeit a very friendly one. I always got such a great kick about how the situation came about, my partner and I absolutely adored him. He was a large male tabby. Absolutely perfect, with a personality to die for.

At 6, I started calling him to come in. But no sign. I even stayed on a few minutes late, full sure he would show up.

I had to leave, but asked my mother to drop down to the house and see if he shows up. She stayed for over 30 mins but no sign. I told her to go home.

My partner had flown home to Croatia earlier in the day, so this was the first time he was out for a lengthy period without the house being open to him.

He’s always been very savvy and I’ve seen him stop when traffic would be nearby, so I felt relatively secure that when I got home, he’d be waiting at the back door.

I arrived back home at 2am to see him lying in the bicycle lane at the top of the housing estate. I knew the second I saw him that he was dead.

I should’ve told my mother to leave the back door open for him. If I had, he’d be here now alive and well, I purring on my lap.

We live in a good place and there would’ve been no risk of robbery etc.

The guilt is killing me that he spent the last hours of his life feeling abandoned and ended up dead. And it’s my fault. We should’ve had at least another decade together. I don’t know how I’m gonna get over this.

I’ll leave you with a pic. His name was Corrado.

And he was perfect.

I let my cat out at 5.30 yesterday, knowing I’d be gone to work at 7.

We took him in nearly 3 years ago. His owner had died and he was basically a stray. Albeit a very friendly one. I always got such a great kick about how the situation came about, my partner and I absolutely adored him. He was a large male tabby. Absolutely perfect, with a personality to die for.

At 6, I started calling him to come in. But no sign. I even stayed on a few minutes late, full sure he would show up.

I had to leave, but asked my mother to drop down to the house and see if he shows up. She stayed for over 30 mins but no sign. I told her to go home.

My partner had flown home to Croatia earlier in the day, so this was the first time he was out for a lengthy period without the house being open to him.

He’s always been very savvy and I’ve seen him stop when traffic would be nearby, so I felt relatively secure that when I got home, he’d be waiting at the back door.

I arrived back home at 2am to see him lying in the bicycle lane at the top of the housing estate. I knew the second I saw him that he was dead.

I should’ve told my mother to leave the back door open for him. If I had, he’d be here now alive and well, I purring on my lap.

We live in a good place and there would’ve been no risk of robbery etc.

The guilt is killing me that he spent the last hours of his life feeling abandoned and ended up dead. And it’s my fault. We should’ve had at least another decade together. I don’t know how I’m gonna get over this.

I’ll leave you with a pic. His name was Corrado.

And he was perfect.