When I was four years old my mother and father brought home the smallest bundle of fur I'd ever seen. A bright, wide-eyed kitten was welcomed into our family and from the moment they put him on the ground in front of me, I never needed another friend.

As you grow up with your pet, they become a part of you. They're there when you come home, sitting on your bed waiting for you, or laying on your lap as you do homework, and sometimes they even sleep with you at night. They've heard you rant about your best friend and cry over your boyfriend, and at the end of it all, you can snuggle up with them and know that someone has an unconditional love for you.

I feel bad for anyone who didn't have the opportunity to grow up with an animal. There comes a time after you bring home that new addition where they cross the line of being "just a pet" to your best friend in life.

I named my kitten Oliver Twist, as any four-year-old would, and he slept in my bed every night for 15 years. Every day I came home to him purring and circling my bed, or waiting in the window for me. As we both aged, we became a team. I ate, he ate. I slept, he slept. I referred to him as "my baby" and not "my pet" or "my cat." Of course, he couldn't speak like a human but he listened and sometimes that was all I needed. We celebrated his birthday like a family member and every Christmas day he had presents wrapped up under the tree.

You never really consider your life without your pet. It feels like you can never lose them but almost always, they end up leaving you long before you expect. But really, do you ever expect them to pass away? It never truly crosses your mind.

The worst possible thing about having a childhood pet, or any pet at all, is that they have such little time on earth compared to humans.

Sometimes suddenly, and sometimes you see it coming, but almost always, it will take your breath away when they pass on.

My little Oliver left me just days ago, and it is a pain that you can never really feel again. It isn't the same as anything else I've ever felt.

You expect your childhood pet to live as long as you do, or at least I did. One day he was perfectly fine and chunky, and it seemed as if over night he dropped 10 pounds. He was getting old, that's all I thought. It was true, he was 14 years old. I wasn't troubled much about it, because he was acting like his usual self. He was fine, until the day he wasn't.

One day he just wouldn't get up. He wouldn't eat, not even his favorite foods. I kept telling myself he would be fine. He was just old, just tired.

I laid in bed with him in my arms after he died, petting his still soft fur and telling him what a good boy he was. Such a good boy.

You think that it won't affect you. "It's just an animal," you tell yourself, until it happens to you. Until the one that you grew up with, the one that was truly by your side through it all, is gone.

I held him all night long after he passed. I felt like a little part of my past, my heart, and myself was missing, because it was.